JPHiP Forum
The Hello! Project Fanfics => H!P Fanfics => Library => Topic started by: OTN1 on March 21, 2007, 11:08:44 PM
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This story comes right after Love x 2 = ∞ (http://forum.jphip.com/showthread.php?t=6880). To understand the references in this story posted here, you should read that one first. My stories are connected/continuations.
This one is by far my most ambitious. Once I get past the introductory chapters, I hope I can do it all properly!
Prologue
"Do you believe in miracles?"
Miki stops walking and I follow suit as she brushes my hair back from my forehead and smiles softly, looking at me genuinely.
"No."
Birds chirp cheerfully as the sun sets quickly, and we carry on walking through the quiet park.
"You don't think our meeting was a miracle?" I ask.
She shoots me a sideways glance.
"No."
"Do you think it was fate? Destiny?"
My question stops her again. I stop, too, and wait for her answer.
"Definitely not."
"Why not?"
"Because it makes it more special if it wasn't predetermined," she answers quickly with a lopsided smile. "I can scare myself by thinking of what it would be like if we hadn't met."
I already know all her answers, but I like to hear her say them anyway. I often ask her things I already know the answers to.
But in light of my ordeal that just ended this morning when I woke up in my own bed in my proper reality, I'm seriously reconsidering my previous stance on miracles. Maybe they can happen...
"We're cooler than destiny," she laughs.
Of course she's Miki and she has to insert her silly humour into the conversation. I look at her and let myself laugh like I want to. I've missed her far too much to give her a tough time. I'll let at least one evening go by where I don't nag or tease her unfairly in the way that I love to. I'll spoil her with attention and share with her nothing but the purity and benevolence of the feelings in my heart.
But just this one night!
Tomorrow I'll have to go back to being myself and scolding her for being a child, for being silly, and for bothering me.
But I'd never do it if she didn't like it or let me. The scolding, that is.
And I'd never do it if I wasn't confident she knew I cared so much.
She's my dorky little Miki and I'll have her no other way but the way she is.
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Chapter 1
The morning after I quit my job, I get up and smash my head against the wall. On purpose.
"Whaddaryoudoing?" Miki mumbles sleepily from my bed.
I've woken her up partially. She's sleeping over at my place because I wouldn't let her go home last night. I haven't seen her in months. There's no way she's going to be anywhere else but beside me.
"Punishing myself," I mutter, letting my forehead crash into the wall again.
"Oh, no. Don't. Let me do that for you," she says in a calm, reasonable manner.
She is obviously still half-asleep or she either wouldn't have said that or she would have said it in a dirty way.
I choose not to reply to her. I finished up with the wall and slip back into bed. Miki has woken up fully by the time I settle in under the covers.
"What were you just doing?" she asked, confused, a vague, incomplete memory probably tugging at her mind.
"Hitting my head against the wall as punishment," I reply crisply.
"...Why?"
The perplexed look on her face is so cute that I want to make a mould of it and bring it out every time I need to smile.
"'Cause I basically quit my job 'cause of you," I reply bluntly.
There is silence until Miki moves. She hugs me.
"Thank you Aya," she says in a sweet, spoiled, childish voice.
She sounds like a naughty little girl whose mother had just slapped her on the wrist and told her to thank Aunt Yuka for the delicious cookies. It's obnoxious and it makes me want to... melt.
"You understand this means I have nothing to do all day, right?" I inquire sharply.
"You'll find something," she says optimistically, her voice muffled because she has her face pressed into my side.
"It'll take too long."
"Hm. At least this means I can expect you to surprise me at my place more often and clean up and cook me delicious meals when I come home from work."
I can hear the sneaky grin in her voice.
Without a single word, I peel her hands and face off of me, get up, and stroll out of the room.
"Hey, where are you going?" she calls out after me.
I don't reply.
"Come back!" she laughs.
I walk calmly into the bathroom, lock the door, and begin to run the water. I hear the door handle shake a bit as Miki tries to open the door.
"Come on, let me in," she whines.
I smile victoriously as I undress quickly and step under the spray of water.
"Come on, Aya. I'm sorry I said that. I was just joking."
I smirk and lather up my hair. I hear her sigh in exaggerated frustration.
"I didn't mean it. In fact, I'll do all your cleaning and cook for you."
My shower is short and sweet, but it feels like it stretches for hours because she stands right outside serenading me with compliments and apologies.
When I'm finished and dried off, I wrap the towel around me and open up the door. Miki is sitting beside it patiently, and she shoots up to her feet when she sees me.
"I'm sorry, Aya," she says cutely.
I press the tip of her nose with my finger.
"Breakfast for fifteen days in a row," I demand.
She knows exactly what I mean. If she wants forgiveness, she has to earn it. Since I'm the world's worst morning person, breakfast is the meal I most often skip and thus the meal I appreciate most. Having her cook it will be a good penalty.
"Does that mean I have to stay over here with you for two weeks?" she asks with a grin.
I can't help but smile back.
"If you want."
She lets out a cheer and then uncharacteristically runs off to the kitchen, leaving me to get dressed.
What a strange girl.
I put on my clothing for the day and then make my bed, rolling my eyes at how Miki's side is always so much more wrinkled and messy because of her restlessness. At least she doesn't drool all over my sheets. No, she usually does that all over me because she ends up sleeping half on top of me anyway. But at least it's easier to clean myself and my pyjamas. I'm kind of glad we don't live together.
Once my bed looks presentable, I sit on it and take a breather, thinking about this "miracle" that has just happened to me.
I can't concentrate, though, because I can hear noise coming from the kitchen. Miki is fumbling around doing who knows what with all my appliances. I can hear her muttering from time to time, singing out the names of things she's looking for - salt, sugar, a spoon. It's cute, and it reminds me of cooking with her and Baachan in Takikawa just a few days ago but a few realities over. The only difference is that the other Miki is put together, organised, and smart in the kitchen. This one here is silly, clumsy, and likes to burn things.
I laugh at how I can like such a person so much. But I accept the truth. I'd prefer to eat burnt toast made by this Miki everyday for a year rather than fluffy rice and tender salmon made by a professional chef. It doesn't matter what the food is. As long as whoever makes it puts all his or her care and love into making it.
My face turns red in embarrassment at thinking such mushy things, and I lie back and roll onto my stomach, covering my face with my hands and groaning in pain.
"The hell are you doing?"
I flip over in fright and see Miki standing at the doorway to my room. She's leaning against the frame, her arms crossed and her face screwed up in amusement. I take my hands away from my face and sit up.
"Uh..."
I was thinking silly things about you and I embarrassed myself, I think. I don't want to tell her that. Then she'll just make fun of me and I'll get all flustered.
"Were you thinking about me again?" she teases me.
I roll my eyes. I also don't tell her because it’s redundant. I know she knows. It's so obvious.
"No. I was... tired," I reply defensively.
She comes over and sits beside me, putting an arm around my shoulder.
"You know, you were really different yesterday. Really nice to me and not at all like my mother, who you normally try to be," she said.
"I didn't notice," I say indifferently, looking down at my hands.
"But you know what? I honestly missed this you that treats me poorly and doesn't let me have any fun."
"I don't treat you poorly!" I gasp in offence. "I tolerate things nobody else in the world would put up with!"
"Pshht, maybe if everyone else in the world had the same views as you and was just a little less nice," Miki snorted. "I bet I could find fifty people in this neighbourhood who don't find my behaviour quirky."
She knows exactly what to say to send waves of jealousy through me. Harmless, playful jealousy, that is.
I clamp my arms around her possessively.
"No. Nobody else. Me," I pout like a child.
She giggles her insanely dorky giggle and pats me on the head.
"Okay, okay."
I revel in this soft moment.
"Hey," she says, breaking the silence.
"Hmm?"
"We should move in together."
I sigh.
We've had this conversation before and it never ends well. Not because we don't agree. Just because there are so many factors we have to consider that we become irked and confused and don't end up coming to any conclusion.
First of all, we have way too much stuff. We'd have to find a big enough place where we could both fit the mounds of shoes and clothes we both own, and unfortunately, while we make good money, we're not billionaires. Housing is expensive in this dense city, and finding a big enough place is difficult because of the lack of supply. Second of all, it's rather convenient to have apartments in different neighbourhoods. It's like having two headquarters rather than one from which to base our operations. Third of all, we're getting too old to be moving in together like that without people starting to question us. It's not something we talk about often because it makes us uncomfortable, but it's true that when your age starts to plunge into that "should be married soon" range, you don't start moving in with your friends and having slumber parties every night. According to the people around us, that is.
But then again, it would make life easier. If we could find a place with enough space for our shoes, that is. We'd have all our belongings in one place. We wouldn't have to waste time and money going back and forth to our different places to pick things up. We would be able to see each other a little more often. Every night, in fact. And it might save us some money on utilities (if the rent doesn't eat us out of a home).
Many things to consider.
I don't even have to open my mouth to remind Miki. She knows all of it.
"But I guess we have to think about it more, huh?" she says resignedly.
She tries not to sound dismayed, but I know she is. I am, too.
"It would be nice," I say in a quiet voice with a soft, honest smile, dropping my holier-than-thou act.
I absently pick at a thread that's poking out of the hemline of her pyjamas.
"Who knows," Miki starts in a mysterious voice. "Maybe it's safer to live apart. My life might be in danger if I piss you off too badly."
"Hahaha."
I continue to pull at the loose thread. It suddenly starts to unravel and I slap my hand down on it in fear and surprise.
Unfortunately, the hemline of Mki's pyjamas lies on her hipbone.
"Ow!"
"Ehh... Sorry," I cough, patting her hipbone lightly and secretly tucking the thread, now longer than the length of my hand, under her pyjama shirt.
"Anyway," I say quickly, "we can think about it more. We still have lots of years ahead of us."
And thus I say something she likes to hear. My words remind her that I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. She's got power over me for what I think is going to be forever. She grins and bounces giddily on the bed, sending me bumping against her and the wall in a painful but kind of fun way.
And that's when I smell something burning.
"What are you cooking?" I ask in a low, dangerous tone.
"Shi-"
She's out of the room before she finishes her word. I hear her run to the kitchen and crash pots and pans around.
"ARG!!" she yells as if engaged in combat with the enemy.
I put my head in my hands and wonder if she's killed something. I'm afraid to find out.
I get up and poke my head out gingerly from my room. I walk out and round the corner.
Miki is fanning the contents of a frying pan with a towel while jumping up and down. I look on the ground and see that there's steam rising off the soaked floor. In the corner is a pot that has spilled its contents - half-boiled eggs and water. Her feet are burning.
"Miki, put that down and get over here!"
She doesn't think twice about it. She throws the pan in the sink and skips to safety as the hot metal hisses, leftover water in the sink sizzling instantly from the heat.
"I'm sorry," she whimpers.
I bend down and pick up one of her feet, making her yell out a series of curses as she wobbles around. I look at the sole. It looks fine. A little red, but not burned. I do the same with the other, and she claws at my back as she tries to stay upright.
"The good news is that your feet aren't burned," I inform her as I straighten up.
"Thanks, doctor," she grumbles, fixing her hair.
"The bad news is that you've burned whatever you were frying and you've destroyed two eggs and gotten my kitchen floor wet."
There's a long silence.
"But you still love me, right?"
I burst out laughing and move off to clean the mess. We work together, and in ten minutes, the floor is dry and everything is put back in its place.
"Let's skip breakfast for today," Miki says shyly.
"Right," I agree. "Go take a bath."
I point her in the direction of the bathroom and slap her on the butt to get her started. She shoots me an inviting look that I try my best to ignore and I go to my room.
While she's off in bathland, I look through the things in my room. I inspect all my photo albums. They are all back to normal. The pictures of Miki all exist, and I enjoy looking at them again. I look through my drawers and find some of her clothes there. The books she bought a few days ago are still on my shelf.
I shake my head and laugh. I've missed this life so much. I admit that Hokkaido was refreshing, but it really served as a reminder of how great my life is here and how much I need Miki around to keep me sane and make me feel whole and normal.
"And whoooooo would I beeeeeee if I couldn't beeeeee beside yoouuuuuu!?"
I hear horrendous singing coming from the bathroom. I cringe. Miki's singing a song that she's been trying to write for weeks now. She's been obsessed with trying to compose her own deep lyrics, but it still needs work.
Secretly, though, I like her cheesy lyrics. She shows them to me sometimes and I make fun of her, but they do touch my heart deep down inside. She writes them just for me.
"Whyyyy would I eeeeeeeeever leaaaaaaaaave if youuuuu are heeeeeeere!?"
I grab Mr. Monkey from the shelf and lie on my bed, hugging him tightly and looking up at the ceiling while listening to Miki screech out her song.
I'm definitely glad to be back.
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uoho! another one, yeah!
I knew it, I knew you're going to continue this. You're fic is like a never-ending story that keep us hooked like a drug XD
can't wait to see where this is going to
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Yay you're back!
Miki and Aya are just soooooooo adorable together. <3
And Miki singing in the shower. XD
Can't wait to see what you have planned! ^____^
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I'm still recovering from MOPF, and I'm really glad that this started off so happily. Lol at horrible shower singing.
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Awww, this is just too adorable! XD
Goofy, clumsy, Miki is love!:ONshy2:
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It's nice to read something so happy and warm after the isolation and pain that was the ending of My Own Private Funeral. However with a title like "What Needed To Be Done" I'm betting that things are going to get messy pretty soon.
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Back so soon! You never cease to amaze me... This seems to be funnier than your previous fics, and I'm looking forward for this 'lighter' version of you. :P
I won't point out what I like the most, since the whole thing is entertaining and highly pleasing, yet I must say that the last line got me thinking... probably too much.
Anyways, I'll stay put until the next update. :D
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"We're cooler than destiny," she laughs.
You're damn right about that. :yep:
The morning after I quit my job, I get up and smash my head against the wall. On purpose.
Of course, NOW the reality of what she did hits her (figuratively speaking).
"You'll find something," she says optimistically, her voice muffled because she has her face pressed into my side.
You sure it's pressed into her "side"? :twisted:
"I'm sorry, Aya," she says cutely.
I press the tip of her nose with my finger.
"Breakfast for fifteen days in a row," I demand.
She knows exactly what I mean. If she wants forgiveness, she has to earn it. Since I'm the world's worst morning person, breakfast is the meal I most often skip and thus the meal I appreciate most. Having her cook it will be a good penalty.
"Does that mean I have to stay over here with you for two weeks?" she asks with a grin.
I can't help but smile back.
"If you want."
She lets out a cheer and then uncharacteristically runs off to the kitchen, leaving me to get dressed.
What a strange girl.
Damn that's just so sweet. Why can't all "punishments" be like this?
"We should move in together."
I sigh.
We've had this conversation before and it never ends well. Not because we don't agree. Just because there are so many factors we have to consider that we become irked and confused and don't end up coming to any conclusion.
I can see how this can be an exciting idea, yet at the same time be somewhat disconcerting at the same time.
"The bad news is that you've burned whatever you were frying and you've destroyed two eggs and gotten my kitchen floor wet."
There's a long silence.
"But you still love me, right?"
But of course. To not do so...is unthinkable. :D
Nice one dude, this one's another winner. :thumbsup
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I'm also relieved at the lighter tone of this story. I like to have some fun once in a while. Although I might cross some sort of cheesiness/mushiness/corniness line from time to time without noticing, so many apologies. Hahaha!
However with a title like "What Needed To Be Done" I'm betting that things are going to get messy pretty soon.
Hush! Don't get all Coachie on us.
You sure it's pressed into her "side"? :twisted:
When I said in the other thread that I liked to stimulate people's imaginations, I didn't quite mean... oh never mind. I did kind of mean like this. :lol: Man, you make me laugh.
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I read Love x 2 at JPM and was absolutely in love. Unfortunately, I haven't been able and won't be able to read the other stuff. *still underage -_-*
Anywho, I really love this! Their characters seem so real! I imagine that this is what they are both like when they are together at each other's houses. Clumsy Miki is too cute. It's definitely true that she's the more childish one of the two. xD
Keep up the good work! I can't wait to read more! ^_^
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OTN will hook you up with the drugs. Don't you worry.
Chapter 2
On Day Four, breakfast is divine.
We both wake up early, but I stay in bed lazily. By the time I get up at seven o'clock, my simple but fresh meal is waiting for me on the living room table. I sit on the floor and eat, positive that Miki could not possibly have prepared this on her own. It's mostly cut up fruit, but it looks so nice sitting there. How can a girl who can barely use a pencil properly handle a knife so skilfully?
Thinking of Miki, I wonder where she's gone off to. She's not in the apartment.
I start to panic and imagine that she's disappeared again - or rather I've been flung into another alternate universe.
But she comes bustling in fifteen minutes later carrying a bag and still wearing her pyjamas with a jacket thrown on over. She has, of course, also already done her make up. Heaven forbid we leave the house without our faces on!
"Sorry. Convenience store," she says quickly, her voice a little strained.
I suppose she's tired. We stayed up until two in the morning. She looks a little worried. It's as if she feels bad for potentially having frightened me.
"Thanks for the meal," I say, pointing to the empty bowls
Her expression softens and she smiles.
"You're so spoiled."
I giggle and lick the last traces of yoghurt from my spoon.
"And you're trying to be sexy again. Stop that," she laughs, turning around and going into my bedroom.
How insulting! I didn't mean to try and be sexy. I was just licking the spoon. And what's with this "trying" thing? I don't try. I am.
I put my dishes in the sink and follow Miki into my room.
She's opening a drawer and looking through it carefully, trying to decide what to wear. I forget about giving her a hard time because my love for fashion and dressing people supersedes all the other loves I have. Except, of course, the one I have for her.
I sidle up to her to see her holding a grey skirt that belongs to her. My mind runs through all the clothing in my drawers and closet, racing to decide what matches and what doesn't.
"What about this?" I suggest, opening up another drawer and taking out one of my favourite tops.
She holds it up to the skirt, holds it up to herself, thinking a bit, and then puts it down.
"Something with a little more colour, maybe?" she says uncertainly.
We repeat the process several times patiently, pulling out various pieces of clothes, holding them up to her face, discussing them in short sentences of only a few words, and conferring with each other through looks. Miki finally settles for a smart, conservative top, but one with a hint of playfulness in its colours.
"I have a meeting today," she explains.
Miki and her meetings. Lately she's been having more. She's quiet about them, but I wonder if something big is going to happen. She's only been working at this new place about a year, but it seems that lots of good luck has been going her way. Many opportunities have presented themselves, and she's been able to reach out and grab them. I am, to say the very least, very proud of her.
"That'll look good," I assure her.
I move off to my bed and lie down on my back, my head and shoulders propped up against the wall. I watch Miki start to take her pyjamas off when she stops and throws me a dirty look.
"All the lazy butt can do is sit and watch me strip?" she asks bitingly.
I turn my nose up.
"It's my room. I can be here if I want," I reply in a snotty voice.
She scoffs, and in one fluid motion, she pulls her pyjama shirt off. The movement doesn't stop there. She keeps going with the momentum and lets go of the top. It goes sailing through the air and lands right on my face. I wince in surprise. Before I can take it off, her pants come flying over to join.
By the time I've untangled the clothing from my head, she's already doing the clasp up on her skirt.
She's unbelievably fast. One of her special talents is speed dressing. If it was an Olympic sport, she would hold the world record. This talent is born from oversleeping and waking up ten minutes before she has to leave the house. She's a demon when she's on a mission.
I prefer it when she's not rushed, however, because that way she's calm and smooth. She takes her time, takes it slowly, savours every minute and everything... and I stop that train of thought before it can get dangerous.
I notice that Miki is struggling with the clasp of her skit. I watch with interest as she fails and fails again to get it right. Finally, she looks up at me sheepishly and saunters over.
Smiling kindly and without a word, I roll up and help her.
"Thank you."
I don't stop there. Having thrown her clothes on in such haste, it looks chaotic on her, dishevelled and untidy, so I tug here and there at her clothes to straighten them out. She looks at me suspiciously at first, but I keep a neutral, if not helpful, expression on my face and she lets me do what needs doing.
"There!" I announce, pushing her back one step and looking at her like she's art. "You are ready to face the world."
Miki grins and twirls around once to present herself.
"Oh!" I gasp in horror. "But not those earrings. No no no. No circles. Not with that top."
I grab her hand and pull her over to my jewellery box where I present her with much more suitable earrings to wear. She thanks me again and puts them on.
"Now," I say with finality, "you are ready to show your face in public."
I turn on my computer to let Miki check her e-mail. She takes a long time, typing up a storm while I read an article in a newspaper from three days ago. When she's finished, she looks weary from all the effort, but she has no time to rest. She has to leave. I look up from the article I'm engrossed in to say goodbye. She picks up her things and leaves with a jaunty goodbye. I return to my reading.
Four minutes later, someone barges in through the unlocked door. I jump up in surprise and my heart races until I see that it's just Miki.
"I forgot," she mumbles in an embarrassed way.
I'm about to ask what, but she comes up to me. She hugs me for a few brief seconds before pulling away and picking up her things.
"Okay, all better."
She looks happier as she leaves again, and I sit down feeling tingly inside.
I finish reading the article and get up feeling giddy. Time to find a job.
News of my quitting has travelled far and wide, and I have received some offers from various labels that are begging me to join them. None strike me as any good. They're too plain. Uncreative, unoriginal labels.
I pick up my phone and check my messages, something I didn't have time to do yesterday. I've got three new ones.
I almost drop my phone when I hear the third message. It's a familiar voice that I haven't heard in a long time.
"We're thinking of a reunion. I heard you're free these days. Call me back and let's talk. Later."
Always cool, always hip, always to the point. That's Tsunku-san for you.
A reunion? I wonder. This could be interesting. It's been a while since Hello! Project went under. I wonder what sort of things Tsunku has under his sleeve. A reunion under his own personal label? Some other label?
Needless to say, I'm curious to the point of feeling instantly antsy. I decide to wait until nine o'clock to call him back, all the while wondering if he's left a similar message for Miki.
I call him a few minutes before nine, and he's happy to hear my voice, he tells me. We catch up for a few minutes.
Even though we've grown apart since we worked together, he still feels like an uncle to me. He was, after all, the guy that discovered me. The man who started me down this path. I can even say he's the reason why I met Miki, because if she had never come to Tokyo... Well, I don't have to imagine. I know what would have happened.
After the pleasantries, Tsunku gets down to business and starts to talk about his plan with vague and mysterious airs that he seems incapable of ever outgrowing.
"Mostly big names," he says. "You, Goto, Abe, Takahashi, and so on."
"What about Mikitty?" I ask in an off-handed manner, using a nickname that I rarely call her by anymore these days.
"Of course her, too. You still keep in touch?"
"Yeah, still the same old thing," I reply.
I've always had the feeling that Tsunku knew just how close we were when we were in the Project, and that he never said anything to us about it because he trusted us to be responsible. I can never be sure, though. He seems to me like another Shiba-chan - omniscient and very sensitive to the things going on in the people around him.
"Good to hear."
He sounds genuinely pleased.
We discuss a few more points, he asks if I've received a phone call from a man named Matsushima ("he wanted to get in touch with you a few months ago, so I directed him to your company," is Tsunku's explanation, but I have to tell him I'm afraid the man never called), and then we hang up with promises to keep in touch.
I figure I can take a break from looking for a new job for a few days. If the reunion is a go, that'll make my plate quite full. I still receive some royalties from various other projects I've done, so for now I'm okay for money. I shouldn't rush to find a job and then find myself in a situation that's less than desirable.
Maybe I do need a break. The thought of spending some lazy time at home for the next while agrees with me. As for Miki, I'm sure she also likes this break of mine. She's a conniving little weasel, so while she pretends to be excited about cooking me breakfast, I'll bet she's engineering a plan right now to turn the tables and have me cooking and cleaning for her by the end of the week. I promise myself not to let that happen.
I giggle. Sometimes I view us as having not just one kind of relationship, but several. One of them is like a never-ending war between two strong, opposing wills. Another is like a telepathic link where we don't need words to communicate. Yet another is like a counselling office where we go to unload our problems and worries in exchange for comfort and kindness. Then, of course, there's the whole physical side of it, which kind of embodies all the aspects of the aforementioned... and then some.
Oh my.
Time to find something else to think about.
I grab that three-day-old newspaper and read. There's a terribly sad article about a plane crash, but I skip it. That last thing I need to do is depress myself. There's no pleasant news, so I throw the paper down and go out for a lazy walk, wondering what time Miki has a break. I want to call her and talk about Tsunku's plan, but I guess it'll have to wait until later.
She's a busy girl, and right now I’m the complete opposite. Not that I mind. I like all this extra time I have now. I’ve been through a lot and need some time to settle back into my life. Thankfully, I’ve got Miki here to do what she does best - make me whole.
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Awww daily domestic life with our two favorite girls. :)
Tsunku is calling them for a reunion? Oooo. *somehow has a niggling bad feeling* Something's going to happen, I'm sure. Hmmm.
Can't wait to have our next dose of the drug you make, OTN!! XD
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There's a terribly sad article about a plane crash,
^Oooo. And the reunion sounds interesting too.
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I knew there was something fishy about this new fic! XD
Now we just have to wait and see what comes from it...
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Hooray for Miki's cooking skills, they could rival my own and I'm an expert at speeddressing as well... where do you come up with all these ideas? XD
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Where do I come up with these things?
My whitty answer would be "I pull 'em outta JFC's ass."
My slightly more serious answer is... I'm not sure! But maybe some of these things are based on me, or exaggerated/toned down things I would do.
For example, in a few minutes, after I finish writing this post, I'll have to go and speed dress so that I'm not late for work. Hahaha.
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Oooh, a reunion...? Hm! Sounds like a reason for high drama. :ONsmoke:
I like this sweet Mikitty, hugging her Ayaya before leaving her home. aww!:ONshy2:
It's been rather happy so far, but will some of the members reject Aya? hummm...Interesting fic, OTN1!
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Tsunku's gonna pull some crazy shit that throws everything out of whack, I just know it :ONgrr:
...but hey I guess that's what he's here for xD
I do love the new fic so far~ your Love x 2 continuations are wonderful:heart:
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When I said in the other thread that I liked to stimulate people's imaginations, I didn't quite mean... oh never mind. I did kind of mean like this. :lol: Man, you make me laugh.
What can I say? You provide awesome material to work with. :)
OTN will hook you up with the drugs. Don't you worry.
To quote Barney Gumbel when he wins teh lifetime supply of Duff beer: JUST STICK IT INTO MY VEINS!!! :panda_argh:
But she comes bustling in fifteen minutes later carrying a bag and still wearing her pyjamas with a jacket thrown on over.
Miki in PJs = HOT!
"And you're trying to be sexy again. Stop that," she laughs, turning around and going into my bedroom.
How insulting! I didn't mean to try and be sexy. I was just licking the spoon. And what's with this "trying" thing? I don't try. I am.
You're DAMN RIGHT! Aya and Miki don't need to "try" to be sexy, they just ARE. They're like Yoda in that way ("Sexy, or Sexy not. There is no 'try' "). :P
I move off to my bed and lie down on my back, my head and shoulders propped up against the wall. I watch Miki start to take her pyjamas off when she stops and throws me a dirty look.
"All the lazy butt can do is sit and watch me strip?" she asks bitingly.
I turn my nose up.
"It's my room. I can be here if I want," I reply in a snotty voice.
That she can, that she can. Besides, we all know Miki's loving every minute of it. :yep:
She scoffs, and in one fluid motion, she pulls her pyjama shirt off. The movement doesn't stop there. She keeps going with the momentum and lets go of the top. It goes sailing through the air and lands right on my face. I wince in surprise. Before I can take it off, her pants come flying over to join.
By the time I've untangled the clothing from my head, she's already doing the clasp up on her skirt.
Damn that's impressive...and hot. :twisted:
She's a demon when she's on a mission.
I prefer it when she's not rushed, however, because that way she's calm and smooth. She takes her time, takes it slowly, savours every minute and everything... and I stop that train of thought before it can get dangerous.
Should I even start on how this can be interpreted the "wrong" way? XD
someone barges in through the unlocked door. I jump up in surprise and my heart races until I see that it's just Miki.
"I forgot," she mumbles in an embarrassed way.
I'm about to ask what, but she comes up to me. She hugs me for a few brief seconds before pulling away and picking up her things.
"Okay, all better."
She looks happier as she leaves again, and I sit down feeling tingly inside.
Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww...:MKlove2:
"We're thinking of a reunion. I heard you're free these days. Call me back and let's talk. Later."
Always cool, always hip, always to the point. That's Tsunku-san for you.
...
Needless to say, I'm curious to the point of feeling instantly antsy. I decide to wait until nine o'clock to call him back, all the while wondering if he's left a similar message for Miki.
Ooooooooooooooooooooooo...interesting. Right now I'm wondering, if Aya's willing to participate in it, what about Miki? We don't know, after all, the situation (if any) between her and da Soonk.
"Mostly big names," he says. "You, Goto, Abe, Takahashi, and so on."
"What about Mikitty?" I ask in an off-handed manner, using a nickname that I rarely call her by anymore these days.
"Of course her, too. You still keep in touch?"
Hmmmmm...not too sure I like his tone there. It almost sounded like having Miki there was some sort of an afterthought to him. Sort of something like, "If it'll get Aya to join, then I'll invite Miki too". :scratch
She's a conniving little weasel, so while she pretends to be excited about cooking me breakfast, I'll bet she's engineering a plan right now to turn the tables and have me cooking and cleaning for her by the end of the week.
And that's just one of the many reasons why we love Miki-sama. :heart:
I grab that three-day-old newspaper and read. There's a terribly sad article about a plane crash, but I skip it
OTN1, you sneaky devil you. Just have to keep up that whole "continuity" thing going, don't you? :D
Where do I come up with these things?
My whitty answer would be "I pull 'em outta JFC's ass."
WOOT! :shakeit:
XD
My slightly more serious answer is... I'm not sure! But maybe some of these things are based on me, or exaggerated/toned down things I would do.
For example, in a few minutes, after I finish writing this post, I'll have to go and speed dress so that I'm not late for work. Hahaha.
:ONwahaha:
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OTN will hook you up with the drugs. Don't you worry.
Trust me. I'm officially HOOKED now. Badly. D;
Haha, I love how you always make Aya hop onto a dirty train of that, but immediately shift directions. xD Also, I couldn't help but think about the whol husband and wife aspect with this chapter. It really shows! :rolleyes:
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Tsunku is calling them for a reunion? Oooo. *somehow has a niggling bad feeling* Something's going to happen, I'm sure. Hmmm.
OMGASS Tsunku is going to kidnap aya and make her his sex slave!!!
Or not.
Can't really think of a good comment right now; except that that chapter was all warm and soft and cuddly and made me feel all happy inside.
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I like all the theories. I like to imagine the two dozen other ways I could go about doing this story. Overwhelming, but nice. It really gets the imagination going. :lol: My one path is set, though.
Happy cuddly domestic Aya and Miki. Would anybody kill me if I wrote ten chapters of pure fluff like that? (Don't worry. I won't. Hahaha.)
Chapter 3
"Miki Miki Mikkiiiiiiiiiiii!" I cry into the phone.
"Hi, Gaki-san," she sighs.
I pause.
"Let's make that twenty days of breakfast, not fifteen," I say in a monotone.
"Okay, okay!" she squeaks. "Sorry. What's up?"
"You haven't checked your messages yet..." I assume.
"Um, no, not yet. I haven't had time to," she says quietly.
"Check them, call whoever you need to call back, and then call me back. Okay?" I say, chipper.
"What's-" she begins, but I hang up on her with a sneaky smile, excited about the news she's about to find out.
It's lunch time for most working people, but I've already eaten. I sit on the couch and nod off while daydreaming about Miki, my phone still in my hand.
About half an hour later, my phone starts to ring and vibrate.
"And I was just getting to the good part," I say into the phone.
"Hi...? Of what?" Miki asks, sounding serious and confused.
I love to bother her at work. She gets very focused there, so when I call her in the middle of a busy day, she always seems a little thrown off balance if I say things that aren't appropriate for the workplace (or things that plain don't make sense).
"Never mind. I'll show you later."
I grin to myself because I can imagine her nodding thoughtfully and not thinking about anything unclean.
Or maybe that's just what she wants me to believe. I bet her composed demeanour at work is all an act. Maybe somebody is within hearing distance and she needs to remain cool.
"Ah, right!" she speaks up. "Aya, I talked to Tsunku-san."
I let out a laugh.
"Isn't it great? This idea of a reunion?" I ask.
My enthusiasm may be born out of boredom and lack of work, but it feels real enough to me.
"Yeah, it is a great idea..." Miki mumbles and trails off.
I can sense there's a 'but' coming.
"But?"
She hesitates to answer, taking a few breaths and trying to start her sentence a few times over.
"I don't know, Aya. I'm really busy right now. I mean, not right now now, but in general. These days. I don't know if I could handle what I've got going on now, plus a Hellopro reunion."
My heart cries out to her because she suddenly seems so stressed out. Before my otherworldly Hokkaido ordeal, I noticed that the stress was piling up on her, but now I think it's about to reach a critical level. The kind of level where it's my duty to step up and give her a hand.
I forget about the Project reunion for a minute.
"Don't worry about it, Miki. How about we talk later? Tonight or something," I suggest.
She sighs, maybe feeling bad because she thinks she's let me down.
"That would be good," she says.
Maybe there's something else bothering her. She sounds so tired. I don't ask, though. I've learned that if she has something to tell me, she'll tell me.
"Can I do anything to help you?"
There's a pensive silence for a moment.
"Just be home when I get back?" she asks in a tiny, hopeful voice that almost sounds a bit nervous. I want to tell her not to worry and that I'm not about to go out and walk into the middle of a gang fight.
"Sure," is all I end up saying. "I'll be here."
"Thanks, Aya. Dunno what I'd do without you."
She sounds a little cheered up, and we say goodbye.
Once the phone is disconnected, my day's mission changes from one of lazing around to one of thinking up ways to cheer up my number one Miki.
==
Miki gets to my place just after eight in the evening. I study her face carefully and decide that she looks more relieved than anything else. It's been a long day for her, and I bet she's looking forward to lying down and passing out in comfort.
"What's for dinner??" she asks right after removing her shoes, jumping onto my back excitedly. I almost fall over.
So much for my 'Miki wants to chill out' theory. I've never seen her more lively.
"Watch out!" I cry as I fall forward and catch myself on the wall.
She gets off of me and goes to the kitchen without any apology.
"I'm starving," she sings, opening up the refrigerator and popping her head in.
I chase after her, muttering under my breath about children and behavioural problems.
"How old are you again?" I ask her, grabbing a handful of her jacket and pulling her out of the fridge.
"Twen-ty-fiiiiive," she sings, taking four steps towards me and backing me up against the sink. "And how old are you? Thirty-two?"
I jab her in the stomach hard. She doubles over in exaggerated pain, but stays put, not letting me get away.
"I don't approve of your sadistic values, Aya-chan," she says in a lecturing tone.
I start to laugh in disbelief. As if Little Miss Aggressive should be talking.
"Anyway," she smiles saucily. "I..." she moves her face in closer to mine.
"...just..."
Closer.
"...want..."
Closer. Her nose touches mine and my lips tingle with anticipation.
"... Dinnerrrrrrrrr!"
She jumps away from me and goes back to the fridge, humming an unrecognizable tune to herself.
I feel like I'm in a drama where the woman finds out her boyfriend is an alien, but has to live with him because of some clause in some cosmic contract that states she can't leave him lest the world come to an end.
If I really did write that book about my life, it would be a bestseller, I think, remembering my plan to one day prove to the rest of the world that Miki is legally crazy.
Since I'm bound by many things, though, I follow Miki back to the fridge and put my chin on her shoulder as she studies my food.
"You're in a good mood. What happened?" I ask.
"I came home and got to see you," she replies as she opens up a container that's holding the last few umeboshi that my mother sent me a few weeks ago from my hometown.
"Home? This isn't your home. This is my home," I tease.
I reach my arms around her from behind and take the container out of her hands, closing it and putting it back where it came from. I'm saving those for later.
"'Home is where the heart is!'" she quotes in English.
I know that one. When she learned it half a year ago, she wouldn't stop saying it to me. While it annoyed me, it did prove that repetition is the best way to learn a language.
"Indeed," I say, putting my nose into her hair.
"Oh! What's in here?" she ponders aloud, opening up another container. It's the leftovers from my lunch. "Can I have this?" she asks like a little puppy dog.
I nod and tell her she can finish it off. I let go of her so that she can heat it up in the microwave.
"You sounded really stressed out today on the phone," I say, leaning against the counter and folding my arms across my torso.
"Oh, yeah. That. I've just been having a few rough days lately," she says, now rummaging through the fridge again and taking out an apple. "I had some disagreements with some, um, colleagues."
She takes out the cutting board and a knife and starts peeling the apple.
"Did you have a fight?" I ask, knowing that Miki is well-known for finding herself in the middle of an argument because she's too stubborn to back down.
"No, not a fight," she says, not looking at me, but focusing on her apple. "But he and I didn't see eye-to-eye. It was... unpleasant."
That's Miki's polite way of saying "I almost ripped his head off."
"Is everything else okay?" I ask, moving to stand beside her and gathering the peeled apple skin in order to throw it out.
She shrugs.
"Life is life."
I figure there must be something going on.
"Come on, Miki. I know you better than that," I say lightly, reaching over to toss the apple skins into the trash.
She stops chopping and looks at me directly.
"These meetings are... close to being concluded," she says carefully. "I can let you know the... results... by the end of the week."
She speaks in such a slow and mysterious tone. I'm filled with an anxious need to know what these secret meetings are all about.
"Is everything okay?" I ask, my eyebrows knit together with concern. "You're not in trouble, are you?"
Miki smiles subtly and touches my cheek with her hands that are covered in apple juice. Somehow, getting my face dirty doesn't seem to matter because she looks so serious. It's like she's trying to tell me a lot more than the words she's speaking with her voice. Alerting me to some fact that she's not allowed to talk about, urging me on to guess what's on her mind.
"Don't worry about me, Aya. I'm fine," she says confidently but with a hint of regret.
Maybe somebody else she works with is going to be fired. Or maybe they're making some big decision that some people will inevitably suffer from.
I gaze into her eyes and try to decipher a message that might not even be there. It might just be in my mind.
In my heart, I will it to all be my imagination. I can understand if she can't give me any information about work. I respect that we can't tell each other everything about the secret decisions made behind the closed doors of our separate workplaces. As long as she's not suffering, she can keep all the business secrets she wants. But if at any point something damages her, I will jump in there to save her.
"Hey, Aya, what was that thing you said you wanted to show me?" she asks with reference to our phone conversation during lunch break, looking back down at her apple and slicing it up neatly.
My mouth widens into a devilish smile that she can't see.
"Hmm," I hum. "Well, not really show, but... finish up your dinner and I'll let you know."
I lean my shoulder against hers and she looks at me. She sees my smile, and a small, knowing one breaks out on her face. She's figured out what zone my mind is in. She likes it, and she's amused by me. Nothing gets her more excited than when I'm feeling... frisky. She finishes chopping up the apple very quickly and very sloppily.
That night we forget to talk about Tsunku and the Hello! Project reunion. Who cares about that kind of thing when you have other, more important people - I mean things - to do?
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Who cares about that kind of thing when you have other, more important people - I mean things - to do?
*cracks up royally*
I love you OTN, will you marry me and have my babies? Your writing skills and sense of humour should be kept in the gene pool! XD
Love how sweet Aya and Miki are around each other. :) And I don't really care if you just write 10 chapters of Aya/Miki fluff. But of course plot is important too... (mind whispers: HA!) *coughs*
Anyway, can't wait to see which way you decide to go with the plot. ^__^
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Hahaha, it's that funny? Thank you.
The plot... well, it's getting there. I think the ride is going to begin soon. I've just warming you all up.
Chapter 4
I once had a big secret. I kept that secret from Miki for too long. It almost ruined us. Once we made up, though (incidentally, it happened in Hokkaido), I wanted her to know that I would never keep another secret from her again. Well, maybe I'd keep things like her birthday and Christmas presents secret. But nothing else.
Late August, 2005. I'm nineteen again. She's twenty. We have just come back from a lovely vacation in Sapporo. We have just re-affirmed what kind of relationship we want to have. We are almost perfect.
We're sitting in my apartment watching a movie. This time it's some Hollywood action adventure. It's fun at some points, but overall a little on the boring side.
I get up and walk over to my room while Miki tries to pay attention to movie and keep up with the ridiculously unbelievable plot. I go through my drawer trying to find something. I feel it and pull it out. It's a dark red journal. My diary. In it, I lose all my dignity and all my humility, and I write what I really think. It's the most honest thing that I have.
I tuck it under my arm and walk back to the TV. I sit beside Miki, who gives me a cursory glance to acknowledge my presence again. She goes back to watching the movie.
I take the book and hold it out to her. She sees my movement out of the corner of her eye and she looks over. She looks down at the object I'm holding and then looks up at me in confusion. I indicate for her to take it from me, so she does.
"What is-"
"My journal," I reply quickly. She looks down at the red cover and looks even more surprised.
"Why are you-"
"You can read it," I cut her off again. "I write everything in there. Deep, dark secrets to fleeting thoughts."
She frowns and continues to stare at the book in her hands. There's no lock. One flip of the cover will reveal everything about me. She then smiles and hands it back. My turn to be surprised.
"I don't need it," she says.
I frown. I thought she wanted to know everything about me. My honest opinions on everything. I still haven't shared everything with her. Not in the way she did in Kobe that first night. She told me everything.
Everything.
I take the journal in my hands and put it on the couch between us.
"Why not?"
"Because you've already said enough."
What did I say? I can't remember. She can tell I'm confused.
"You want me to know all those things, right?" she asks. I nod. "Then that's enough."
That's enough? It's enough for her to simply know that I want to tell her things? She really doesn't ask for much. I smile and laugh.
"Right now, though, I'm more concerned about Jack- or Jake or whatever his name is- and how he's going to stop the terrorists," she says, once again turning her full attention to the TV.
My jaw drops. I've been completely shut out and denied. I toss the journal onto the table and grab Miki's arm, pulling her towards me. She lets out a surprised sound and struggles to keep upright. She falls onto her side and scrambles back up.
"What are you doing?" she asks.
"Getting your attention," I say, grabbing onto her hands and forcing her to face me instead of the TV set. She twists her neck sideways and tries to keep an eye on the action on the screen. I pull at her sharply and she looks back.
"I'm missing the movie," she says miserably.
"You can rewind it and watch it later," I reply crossly.
"But..." Now she's sounding like the big baby I know she can be.
"Do you want to watch a movie or hang out with me?" I ask her.
"Can't I do both?" she asks timidly. I squeeze her hands. Wrong answer. She ducks her head, afraid I'm going to do something mean to her.
"Me or Jack- er, Jake," I state with a pout.
"Since you're being so mean.... Jake. Or whatever his name is."
I pout some more and look sad and dejected. She just laughs at me, lets go of my hands, and goes back to her seat to watch the movie. There's a gunfight going on now, and she leans forward in her spot, absorbed. I do feel a little sad. I thought she was just playing around when she was enraptured by the movie. I thought I could easily convince her to ignore it and pay attention to me, but it seems like she's serious about preferring the movie over me...
I lean forward and pick up my diary quietly and flip through it. I find an entry about her dated February 12th, 2005.
Oh, this is embarrassing. Maybe it's a good thing she chose not to read it.
In the entry, I gush about how much fun we had on the weekend and how she's so funny and cool and cute. Then I say embarrassing things about wanting to be friends forever and then I even say that sometimes I think we're more than just friends.
I couldn't have possibly meant it in that way, right? I don't even remember writing this entry. It must have been one of those unconscious things that spilled out of my mind and onto paper, recorded for history.
I read the next entry, which is made a few days later. It's about work and about how I'm finding it oppressive to be a part of H!P. It looks like my mind had the same things on it for a long while.
I'm so busy reading the next entry about something silly Tsuji and Kago did during a rehearsal (involving water balloons, a tin can, and our choreographer) that I don't notice a hand sneaking its way around my shoulders. Before I know it, Miki is sitting right up against me and holding me with one arm. She's looking down nosily at my journal. I look up, startled, and I slam the book shut. She laughs at me again and takes my journal from me.
"What are you reading about?" she asks.
"Nothing," I mumble. She opens the book to a random page and holds it out to me.
"This page?" she asks playfully. I shake my head. She turns to another page. "This one?" I shake my head again. She closes the book and throws it back onto the table.
"Want to tell me?" she asks. There's something almost seductive about the way she says it. I feel very hot right now and I shake my head.
"I was just flipping through."
"Come on..." she urges me. I receive a wave of confidence and I look right at her.
"It was an entry about you."
"Oh?" she seems thrilled. "What did it say?"
"That you're so cool and cute and lovable," I reply. She beams back at me.
"Cute," she says, referring to my writing about her.
I notice the TV screen and see that the movie is still playing.
"Your movie is still playing..." I say, nodding my head to it. She doesn't even look back.
"You think I'm actually interested in that piece of crap?" she laughs.
"But you.... you were just..." She giggles.
"I get a kick out of seeing you pout," she explains.
I hit her hard on her shoulder.
"Oh, likes it rough," she teases me, but then she shuts up quickly as we both remember a certain night not too long ago where we indeed played at it rough and secretly enjoyed parts of it. Her ears turn red and I'm sure my face does, too.
We chuckle it off eventually. We have already forgiven each other and moved on. We just have to remind ourselves.
From that point on, the concept of a secret beyond a surprise or a gift becomes foreign to us.
No more secrets.
That precept still stands today. I no longer hide my worries from her, and I'm not a weaker person because of it. I'm stronger if I share things with her and let her help me.
And so on Day Eight of Divine Breakfasts, when her apparent unease continues to grow, I let her know I'm very worried about her.
Day Nine is a day I will never forget.
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Day Nine! What happens in Day Nine?! *panics like a headless chicken*
But before that, I love the Aya/Miki (as usual, but I'll keep on saying it every time anyway. :P).
Great, now you've gotten me all distracted by what's going to happen next, and I can't write for my own fic! Haha. Great job! :D
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Aww, so cute! This chapter made me feel warm inside while at the same time, making me fear for the future.
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It was cute, it was warm, it made me fear. Yay.
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Two chapters? Dude no fair...
Would anybody kill me if I wrote ten chapters of pure fluff like that?
Nope. :)
Chapter 3
"Miki Miki Mikkiiiiiiiiiiii!" I cry into the phone.
"Hi, Gaki-san," she sighs.
I pause.
"Let's make that twenty days of breakfast, not fifteen," I say in a monotone.
Aya-death glare! :roll:
I sit on the couch and nod off while daydreaming about Miki, my phone still in my hand.
About half an hour later, my phone starts to ring and vibrate.
"And I was just getting to the good part," I say into the phone.
Why that little she-devil. :pimp:
"I don't know, Aya. I'm really busy right now. I mean, not right now now, but in general. These days. I don't know if I could handle what I've got going on now, plus a Hellopro reunion."
*GASP*! An H!P reunion without Miki? Dude, that's...not right. It's just not right. :cry:
"Don't worry about it, Miki. How about we talk later? Tonight or something," I suggest.
She sighs, maybe feeling bad because she thinks she's let me down.
"That would be good," she says.
...
"Can I do anything to help you?"
There's a pensive silence for a moment.
"Just be home when I get back?" she asks in a tiny, hopeful voice that almost sounds a bit nervous.
Shit, Miki must have a lot on her plate at work. Knowing her she wouldn't let anyone see her worried or stressed like this. :o
"How old are you again?" I ask her, grabbing a handful of her jacket and pulling her out of the fridge.
"Twen-ty-fiiiiive," she sings, taking four steps towards me and backing me up against the sink. "And how old are you? Thirty-two?"
I jab her in the stomach hard. She doubles over in exaggerated pain
Gotta love her blunt sense of humour. :lol:
"Anyway," she smiles saucily. "I..." she moves her face in closer to mine.
"...just..."
Closer.
"...want..."
Closer. Her nose touches mine and my lips tingle with anticipation.
"... Dinnerrrrrrrrr!"
She jumps away from me and goes back to the fridge,
DINNERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!! :damnfunny :damnfunny :damnfunny
I feel like I'm in a drama where the woman finds out her boyfriend is an alien, but has to live with him because of some clause in some cosmic contract that states she can't leave him lest the world come to an end.
What kind of crack-crazy dramas have you been watching dude? :P
"No, not a fight," she says, not looking at me, but focusing on her apple. "But he and I didn't see eye-to-eye. It was... unpleasant."
That's Miki's polite way of saying "I almost ripped his head off."
My money would've been on Miki, all the way. :yep:
"Is everything else okay?" I ask, moving to stand beside her and gathering the peeled apple skin in order to throw it out.
She shrugs.
"Life is life."
I figure there must be something going on.
Indeed. Something's up, and Miki's not comfortable to talk about it. :scratch
"These meetings are... close to being concluded," she says carefully. "I can let you know the... results... by the end of the week."
Shit, I get the feeling that something big's gonna happen at Miki's work. It's gonna affect Miki, and NOT in a good way.
I lean my shoulder against hers and she looks at me. She sees my smile, and a small, knowing one breaks out on her face. She's figured out what zone my mind is in. She likes it, and she's amused by me. Nothing gets her more excited than when I'm feeling... frisky. She finishes chopping up the apple very quickly and very sloppily.
That night we forget to talk about Tsunku and the Hello! Project reunion.
Aya herself says has the best reply to this when she says:Who cares about that kind of thing when you have other, more important people - I mean things - to do?
:twisted:
Chapter 4
Late August, 2005. I'm nineteen again. She's twenty. We have just come back from a lovely vacation in Sapporo. We have just re-affirmed what kind of relationship we want to have. We are almost perfect.
Damn you and your ability to find a way to tie all of your miscellaneous stories together! (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c340/J-F-C/shakefist.gif) :P
"My journal," I reply quickly. She looks down at the red cover and looks even more surprised.
"Why are you-"
"You can read it," I cut her off again. "I write everything in there. Deep, dark secrets to fleeting thoughts."
She frowns and continues to stare at the book in her hands. There's no lock. One flip of the cover will reveal everything about me. She then smiles and hands it back. My turn to be surprised.
"I don't need it," she says.
...
"You want me to know all those things, right?" she asks. I nod. "Then that's enough."
Aw duuuude. :baa60776:
"Right now, though, I'm more concerned about Jack- or Jake or whatever his name is- and how he's going to stop the terrorists," she says,
Hmmm...sounds like 24. :lol:
"But..." Now she's sounding like the big baby I know she can be.
Childish Miki FTW! :yay:
"Your movie is still playing..." I say, nodding my head to it. She doesn't even look back.
"You think I'm actually interested in that piece of crap?" she laughs.
"But you.... you were just..." She giggles.
"I get a kick out of seeing you pout," she explains.
Okay, it can't be 24 if Miki calls it "crap". XD
Day Nine is a day I will never forget.
Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa here it comes! Lets see....shit...check....fan....check....raincoat and mask....double-check. Okay, ready on my end. :thumbsup
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More warm domestic life for our twosome.(With slight undercurrents of bad stuff about to happen)You know I really wouldn't mind if you wrote a whole fic of just the daily life of Aya and Miki, but I also really want to see what kind of horrible things are going to happen to them.
Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa here it comes! Lets see....shit...check....fan....check....raincoat and mask....double-check. Okay, ready on my end. :thumbsup
So, if I'm reading that correctly, shit is on your checklist JFC?
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Yay! Im liking!
hot hot hot in a very subtle way. As usual.
Will they ever play it rough again I wonder...out of fun this time, not rage XD
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Yeahhhhhhhhh, another Love x 2 continuation and I'm as excited as the first time :D I'm loving this so far, and I wouldn't mind if you wrote a fic of just Aya/Miki home moments either, but I'm also curious about what's going on in Miki's workplace.
Somehow I get the feeling that if they would have talked about the H!P reunion that night the upcoming 'problem'(couse I figured out that what happens on Nine day can't be good xD) would be less of a problem, but dunno, just wild guessing xD
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Something tells me to revive the "100% Pointless Tales of Aya and Miki" that I started working on before Love x 2 was even an idea. But no, Mikan. No more "rough" from me. Hahahaha!
JFC, I have never watched 24, so I don't get the reference. Ah, but every time you post the googly-eyed emoticon, I get all "Awww"-ish, too. Glad you've got your gear ready.
Chapter 5
It's five in the morning. I can't sleep because I keep having scary dreams about people with no faces running around and sacrificing cats to some kind of spirit. We watched a scary movie last night, and I'm still tense, my mind filled with frightening images. It's dark in the room, but I feel better if my eyes are open and I can see outlines of everything around me.
I tell myself not to freak out when I hear a creak come from my living room.
It's not a ghost. It's not an attacker. It's just the wind, I tell myself.
My living room always lets out a creak or two. Everyone's does. It's just that after watching a horror movie, that creak becomes the footstep of a dead person who has come back to torment and finally kill you slowly with its sharp, bloody claws that dig into your flesh lightly at first and then go deeper and deeper, drawing blood from veins buried under muscle, and draining you dry-
"Miki," I whisper sharply, trying to shut out the image from my head.
I grab on to her arm and shake her. She doesn't reply. She looks dead.
"Miki," I say again more loudly.
Again there's no reply and I put my hand on her chest to check for a heartbeat. She's got a slow, steady beat.
"Miki," I say in my normal voice.
She stirs and I relax a bit. She opens her eyes and looks at me.
"Sorry," she mumbles, closing her eyes and rolling away from me.
I huff. She probably thinks I'm complaining about her being in my way.
"Miki," I say again, shaking her arm.
"Yeah?" she slurs.
"Are you awake?"
I know it's not a very smart thing to forcibly wake someone up only to ask if he or she is already awake, but I don't want to admit right off the bat that I'm scared.
"No," she grumbles, trying to convince herself she's just dreaming.
"Good."
I lie down right beside her and wait for her to ask. She knows something's on my mind.
"What's the matter, Aya?"
"I'm having bad dreams," I tell her. "I can't sleep."
"Don't worry. They're just dreams. They can't hurt you," she says, quoting what she's said to me a million times before. She closes her eyes and looks like she's going to go back to sleep with no more words of comfort.
"I know, but I can't sleep anyway," I continue. "They're scary."
She doesn't respond for a whole minute, and I lie there feeling a little cold. She finally turns around and raises herself up on her elbow, pulling the covers up to cover me all the way to my chin. She smoothes my bangs back and pats me on the head.
"When I first met you, I never would have imagined you as someone who'd get scared easily by her dreams."
I smile in amusement. She used to give me too much credit in the bravery department. She always thought I wasn't scared by anything, when the truth is that scary movies have often given me nightmares for up to two weeks after watching. It has gotten a bit better since she started sleeping over more often, because my mind is distracted with other thoughts and I can forget I have seen anything scary. Since she's figured all that out, though, she takes good care of me whenever I wake up from a nightmare.
Nowadays, I rarely have nightmares, but when I do, she stays awake if they are really bad and if I'm really desperate.
We don't speak and she continues to stroke my hair gently. It's so relaxing that it almost hypnotises me. My eyes close and I drift off.
Two and a half hours later, I'm awoken by Miki. She's dressed and ready to leave, but she's bent over me, whispering my name softly and telling me to wake up.
"Hmmmm..." I mumble groggily.
"I have to leave now," she informs me.
"Bye."
I turn my face away. I just want to sleep.
"I won't be back until late," she says in a singsong voice, wiggling her nose into my cheek.
"Mmm. Bye," I repeat.
I don't want to hold her back and make her late.
She has a mind of her own, of course, and for some reason, she gets up on the bed and lies down beside me, hugging me tightly. I squirm a bit because I'm still half asleep and would like to keep it that way.
"What's your plan for the day?"
I have no idea. I'm barely even conscious yet.
"Dunno. Search for work. Go shopping," I reply half-heartedly.
Her hold on me tightens.
"I heard it's going to rain today. Maybe you should stay in."
I open an eye and try to look up at her.
"Weather report last night didn't say anything about rain," I grumble.
"Weather reports change," she says to me in a reasonable tone.
"Okay. If I go out, I'll take an umbrella."
I wonder why she's talking to me about this, but I don't care to ask because her hold on me loosens and she kisses my cheek in a pleasant way.
"Miki," I say as I start to wake up and remember last night just after we watched that terrible movie.
"Mmhmm?" she asks, her cheek now resting on mine.
"You know last night how we talked about - well, I asked you about that stuff?" I ask carefully.
I feel her cheek tighten up. Maybe she has her mouth set in a grim line. She remembers quite well...
We're getting ready to go to sleep when I sit down cross-legged on the bed and draw her towards me, making her sit down in front of me.
"You've been acting strange for the past few days. Um, not strange, but you seem upset about something. I don't know if something's going on at work or if you're in some sort of trouble, but can you please let me know? I hate watching you get all nervous. I want to help you."
I speak softly but with a firm edge. It's my signal that I'll let her take things at her pace, but that I won't accept "no" as an answer. I want her to let me in on what's going on her life. It's our agreement. It's in our contract. Miki's my alien boyfriend, and the fate of the world is dependent on us.
A distant look takes over her face and she looks past me and at the window. The curtains block her view of the neighbourhood, but she seems to see through them. Then she looks at me solidly and squeezes my hands.
"I promise you that I'm not in any danger," she says softly.
That's a weird reply. Why would I think her life was in danger? I just thought that she was in a miserable situation at work, possibly being harassed by someone, possibly on the verge of being fired. Maybe the situation is pretty serious, though, if she is making dramatic statements like that.
"I'm going to explain everything to you when I get home tomorrow night. I promise," she continues. "But you have to promise to let me go to work and not worry about it, okay? It'll be all right."
She has officially scared me, but I have no choice but to agree. A promise from Miki is a reliable thing. We go to sleep, but I remain unsettled...
"Are you sure you'll be okay today?" I ask after she's recalled the previous night.
She swallows and nods.
"I'm sure. I'll come back at around seven o'clock, and then we'll talk," she says with a steady, honest look.
She could establish a nation with that look. That determination.
It comforts me a bit, but I'm still concerned.
"I'm really really worried about you, Miki," I tell her. "A lot."
She smiles and pushes herself up so that she's propped up over me, looking at me in the face.
"Thanks for your concern," she says. "I'm lucky you're here for me."
Her face turns serious again. No more smile. She seems to be pondering life's mysteries, or perhaps our history together. Whichever one it is, I can see in her eyes that a million thoughts are running through her head.
"Take care of yourself today," she tells me.
She speaks as though she's had a prophetic dream and this is her way of warning me.
"You too."
"Oh, and your breakfast is on the table. It's been ready for a while now," she winks.
Completely awake now, I grin and pull her to me.
And then we "say" goodbye.
Oops, I think twenty minutes later at eight o'clock as Miki scrambles up from the bed, swearing like a drunken sailor and adjusting her clothes while I try to help her look put together again. She grabs a few bags full of papers and runs to the door, screaming that she's late.
"Bye bye!!" I call out cheerfully after her, not being able to resist laughing.
She stops in her tracks and looks back and gives me the most beautiful smile. Not a hint of stress remains in it. I mirror the look on my face, and I'm happy that I have been able to help her relax and forget her troubles for just a bit.
Tonight I expect to find out just what her troubles are.
She sprints out the door and I go to the table. Sitting there is a bowl of cereal, an unpeeled orange, and a glass of tea. I roll my eyes. Such an idle girl. She was doing so well with the breakfasts, too. This is definitely a setback.
I eat and then tidy up my apartment.
"Tidying up" turns into a full-fledged apartment clean up. If Miki says it's going to rain, I may as well start on something indoors.
I finish by lunch time and I whip up some noodles while checking my messages. Someone has called me from a payphone three times but hasn't left any messages. I also have an e-mail from Shiba-chan. She tells me that since the Italy project has been scrapped entirely, she's going on another trip even though she recently got back from a camping trip with her family. She tells me it'll be a short one - Spain for five days - and she'll be back before I notice she's gone.
While I wait for the noodles to boil, I email her back and then send Miki a happy e-mail asking how she's doing.
Neither girl replies right away, so I'm left to myself with my noodles.
The day passes by in a blur. I'm a bit nervous. Who knows what sort of news I'm going to hear tonight.
In the early evening, Shiba-chan e-mails me back. She's leaving in a few hours, so she reminds me that if I need to get in touch with her, I should use her PC mail, not her phone mail.
Still no word from Miki, though. I sigh and prepare dinner.
Seven o'clock rolls around and I'm hungry, but Miki has said she'll be home, so I wait. I watch television and lose myself in the second episode of a romantic drama that I wish I had watched from the first episode.
Time flies by and it hits me that it's eight o'clock. I check my phone but there are no messages. I hesitate for ten minutes and then call Miki.
It rings seven times before the automated voice mail message plays. I leave my message.
"It's me. Where are you? Waiting for you with cold dinner. See ya."
An hour passes by excruciatingly slowly. I hold my phone in my hand and stare at it for most of that hour. I switch the TV on for background noise and continue to wait.
By ten thirty, I'm panicky. I've e-mailed her once and called her twice. No reply to my e-mail, and the same answering machine message plays for my call. Maybe I'm paranoid, but I have a bad feeling.
At eleven, I call her apartment, but the answering machine there picks up. I leave a short message asking her to call me back.
At twelve, I put dinner in the fridge. It has completely slipped my mind for the past few hours, and now I've lost my appetite anyway.
I lie down at one, my phone still in my hand, my palm sweaty with fear. I can't stop imagining all the horrible things that could have happened.
But maybe she's all right and she’s just doing one of those crazy things she does sometimes. She might have gone out to some party with her co-workers after an unexpectedly good resolution to whatever problem they've been facing. She might be coming back on a late night bus after going to some town to buy something special on a whim.
Or maybe she has fallen and broken her leg in a park while her phone has died because it has run out of battery power.
I call her one more time. This time, however, no answer machine picks up. I get an automated message telling me that the phone is turned off or it's out of service range.
I close my eyes and force all bad thoughts out.
It is in that way I fall asleep.
I wake up abruptly the next morning. My phone, which is resting beside my head, is ringing. Through bleary eyes, I check the time. It's already eight thirty. The previous night's happening suddenly hits me, and I scramble to answer my phone.
"Hello?" I ask in a rushed voice.
"Matsuura Aya-san?" asks an official-sounding voice.
"Yes..." I say slowly, cautiously.
Who is this man? I don't think I know him.
"I'm Sugiura Akio from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, Minato Ward division three."
My entire body goes numb.
"We are extremely sorry to bother you, but we were wondering if you would not mind coming to our office to provide us with some information," he says politely.
I swallow the huge lump that has formed in my throat.
"What kind of information?" I croak hollowly.
There's an uncomfortable pause.
"If you don't mind, I would very much rather discuss that in person."
My head starts to spin. Does this have to do with Miki? Where is she?
"Okay," I find myself saying. "What's the address?"
The officer gives me an address, and in a completely blank state, I get ready and head down to the police office.
Walking into the huge building gives me chills. I have no idea what I'm there for, but it's definitely not good.
I identify myself to the secretary at the front, and she gestures behind me to a waiting area. In it are three men in casual business suits and two police officers in uniform. They see me and stand up. I assume they are the people I'm supposed to meet.
We walk towards each other. I hold my breath.
"Matsuura-san, I'm Sugiura," the tallest man of the bunch says, sketching a bow. He's one of the ones wearing a casual suit. "I'm sorry to call you here so suddenly."
I shake my head.
"Not at all."
The five men lead me to an office, where I'm asked to sit down. A sixth man wearing a police uniform comes into the room and hands Sugiura a plastic bag. He leaves. I watch as Sugiura opens the bag and takes out a small object - a cell phone. He hands it to me.
"Do you know the person who owns this phone?" he asks me slowly.
With a trembling hand, I take the phone. It's the model Miki uses. I open it up, and sure enough, there's her Koala background picture from her trip to Australia last spring. I look through the address book briefly just to make sure. I recognize all the names. This is Miki's phone.
I nod, too stunned to form words. Has she been kidnapped? Attacked? Or maybe even arrested?
The men exchange solemn looks.
"And whose phone would it be?" Sugiura asks.
"A girl name Fujimoto Miki," I say, annunciating very carefully.
"And her relationship to you?" asks another one of the business suits.
I look at him solidly.
"Best friend."
They exchange worried glances, and for some freakish, crazy moment, I wonder if I'm under arrest for being more than just friends with another girl.
"There's one more thing we need to ask you to do, and we're very sorry about it..." Sugiura continues.
"What?" I ask in a low voice.
"If you would come to the morgue with us, we need you to help identify a body."
And with that, my world explodes in my face.
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*has just died*
....
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c'mon.. now you've killed miki?
and I still love your fics so much.. :heart: XD
well.. if this Miki is really dead now the Aya from this reality could meet the Miki from the reality where Aya died on the plane crash XDXD
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This better be a nightmare, you said you were going in a lighter direction with this story!
:ONangry1:Make it a dream or Angry Kitty mauls you!!!:ONangry1:
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*starts to cry* Nooooo....
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Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!
So now it's Aya's ordeal? But wait she already had hers!
Ok, I don't believe Miki's dead.
Is the Yakuza involved in this? Did they kidnap Miki because she or her company was involved in something?
I swallow the huge lump that has formed in my throat.
before I even finished reading the sentence and picking up on its meaning, I unconciously did the exact same thing XD GJ!
Oh boy, oh boy, the tension, I'm loving it!
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omg it can't be!!!!!!
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O_______________________________________O
<--- is frozen and won't move until the next chapter is posted. Thanks a lot you tricky bastard xD
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>.< No
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I spent the last while reading all of your previous fics before reading this one. I think I've been completely converted into some AyaMiki shipper now @_@;;. Not that it's bad or anything, of course :heart: :heart:
Though I wish I started reading this one later so I don't have to deal with this suspense x_o. Mikiiii :ONfrustrated: She's okay, right!? RIGHT!? T_T! *dies with everyone else on the spot*
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OMG. NOOOOOOOOOOOO~~!! :ONfrustrated:
Please let this a strange dream again. Please~~ :cry:
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...and now is when Aya discovers all the morgue thing is part of the japanese version of Punk'd?
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I'm not going to read this chapter until you post the next one.
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OMG. NO. NO. NO.
I FREAKING KNEW IT. D<
Is it possible to still love you now, I wonder? :P (j/k)
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I feel like I have to apologise twenty times over for the turn this story is taking. Ten chapters of fluff would be nice, but I'll do that another day.
TydusArandor, congratulations on your "conversion." Hahaha. It makes me happy to hear that you've been able to come to enjoy this pairing just by reading some stories.
Nana Oosaki's comment has got to be the most defiant I've ever gotten (hahaha!), and Yuuyami, sorry to keep you sitting in one place all night. I hope you have a storage of food and drink nearby because I might not be ready with this next chapter quite yet. Hahaha. Although it is a rainy day today, which means after I go out and walk around in it, I'll come back and write some more. :lol: The sky outside matches the mood of this story.
As always, thank you for reading, even when I break your hearts, even when I'm "despairing and hopeless."
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Wow. ebc pulled a fast one on us. Good work, man.
Reposting my stuff, plus the new chapter I just posted. I seem to be breaking this forum. Haha.
(I stupidly didn't save the edited versions of these chapters, so please excuse the horrendous amount of errors I know are there. I did, however, change that have/hate mistake since I remembered it immediately. Hahaha!)
Chapter 6
Morgue.
Body.
Identify.
"Matsuura-san."
"...your breakfast is on the table..."
"Matsuura-san?"
"Thanks for your concern."
"Matsuura-san?"
Be quiet. I'm thinking.
"We're very sorry, but we need to confirm this..."
I drown out his voice with my thoughts.
No. It's not Miki. It's someone else. Just relax. Relax. Breathe...
Someone takes me by the arm and I jerk away.
"I'm sorry..." one of the men says.
I look up.
"Not at all," are the first words I mutter.
I stand up.
They lead me through the corridors. Somewhere along the way, a female officer joins us. She walks beside me.
Cold metal doors. Opening slowly. Cold air on my face.
"This way, please."
I follow. I'm a robot.
We stop.
"Matsuura-san, if you would."
I look down at a white sheet. Under the white sheet is a body on a cot.
"I'm very sorry, but can you please take a look at-"
I reach out with a shaking hand before he can finish. I grasp the white sheet. Pull it back.
"I'm lucky you're here for me."
I stare.
Her eyes are closed.
She looks like she did yesterday morning. Sleeping. But with blotchy skin. And pale. So very very pale...
"Matsuura-san?"
His voice is like a mosquito. Irritating. In my ear.
"I'll come back at around seven o'clock..."
I want to wake up from this nightmare right now.
NOW.
... but I'm still here.
I reach my hand out. I touch her face. She's frozen.
No. She's dead.
Suddenly an uncontrollable gasp of air rushes into my lungs. I suck in the cold air of the morgue and hold it in me. I cross my arms tightly across my stomach and stare at my worst nightmare.
I let the air go. It flows out of me shakily.
"Matsuura-san..." says the woman softly.
I look up at Sugiura. He's looking at me with compassion. My mouth opens to ask him what's going on. Why is she here? But my lips flap uselessly and I can't remember how to speak. I see him look at another man and they exchange nods. My reaction has probably confirmed what they suspect.
"This is the body of Fujimoto Miki, is it not?" asks one of the men.
I look at him blankly, my lips quivering. I manage a slight nod. I look back down.
Then tears. They spill out of my eyes. I grab the edge of the cot and hold on for dear life. If I let go, I'll fall and smash my skull open on the cold floor.
"Oh, and your breakfast is on the table."
Cereal. Orange. Tea.
I look back up at Sugiura.
"W...?"
He comes to stand closer to me.
"We found her in a river. She drowned. We... we suspect foul play."
My grip on the cot tightens.
I don't understand.
Foul play?
That means someone did this to her?
I don't understand. I don't understand.
"A...?"
"Matsuura-san, if you'll come this way, we can leave-"
"No."
My first complete word.
I look down.
Pale, pale face.
She made me breakfast yesterday morning. She who now is lying in front of me, pale, cold... dead.
A wave of pain hits me and rushes through my body. I feel sick. I almost throw up. I swallow down hard.
"Why?" I rasp out.
"We don't know why yet," Sugiura says gently. "But we're doing our best to find out. I promise you."
Don't promise me things.
I touch her cheek again.
"Why do you think it was foul play?"
"Heavy bruising. Back and arms," one of the officers says in a cold, insensitive voice. I'd slap him if he wasn't so far away.
Instead, I grab at the sheet and pull it down some more.
"Please-" Sugiura-san says, stepping up and reaching out to stop me, but I shrug his hand away and take one of her cold arms. Sure enough, there are bruises on her upper arm. I run my fingers along them lightly.
"Who did this?" I demand.
"We don't know."
"Who?!" I yell.
Why won't anybody answer my question? How can they not know?
"We don't know yet. That's why we called you. We need to ask you some questions."
"No!" I sob.
I start to cry in earnest.
I look down at the dead body of Miki. There she lies, flat on her back, half of her covered by a white sheet, half of her naked and exposed to the cold. No dignity left. Just flesh, bones, blood, and muscle. No Miki. Just a shell.
How??
The pain tears me up.
The pain is soon replaced by anger.
This is something that can never be forgiven. Somebody has taken away the most important person in my life. He or she will regret it. I’ve decided.
Whoever did this to her... Whoever did this to her is going to die.
Some time during my crying fit, they lead me out of the refrigerated space.
I look back at her body as I step out the door. They haven't covered her back up yet. She's all alone.
"Take care of yourself today."
They will pay.
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Chapter 7
I don't understand what's going on. They've given me a glass of water and sat me down in that office. Sugiura sits in front of me. The female police officer sits beside me. The other men stand. They hover like ghosts. I feel like I'm being interrogated.
In my mind, all I see is Miki's face. Her dead, cold face. And in my heart, I feel nothing but pain and anger. Pain and anger...
They've told me they're going to ask me lots of questions. I don't care. I'll answer whatever they ask.
"Can you first describe to us in detail how you knew Fujimoto-san?"
Speaking in full sentences is hard, but I try.
"I got to know her through work. We were idols together."
I'm sure everyone in the room knows that already.
"We became friends and remained friends after we left the company we worked for."
Sugiura takes notes. I wonder what he's writing exactly.
"And how often would you see her?"
I have to answer this truthfully.
"Just about every day."
He writes down some more.
"And how well did you two know each other?"
How can I describe that?
"Very."
Sugiura looks up at me from his pad of paper.
"Can you elaborate?"
I nod.
"We share just about everything. Secrets, clothes... I - we - we just know everything about each other."
It doesn't sound right. There are no words to describe it.
"Knew. W-we knew."
Past tense.
"Was Fujimoto-san disturbed in any way lately? Was she being harassed?"
I think hard.
"Not that I know of," I mumble. "She was stressed out at work, but she didn't tell me what it was about."
Sugiura looks up again, his eyebrow raised.
"And yet you two share everything with each other?"
I nod silently.
"But she didn't tell you what was bothering her at work?"
I shrug.
"She said she was going to tell me yester-"
I choke up and look down, blinking rapidly and clenching my fists to keep from screaming out a sob.
Sugiura waits a few moments before he continues.
"Are you aware of Fujimoto-san ever receiving any threats?"
I blink.
"No. Never. She would have told me."
Scribble scribble scribble on his paper.
"What about people that she knew that might have wanted to hurt her?"
I'm starting to think that this conversation is pointless. There was nobody that wanted to hurt Miki. She never did anything to piss anybody off. She minded her own business and was a hard worker. She argued with people, but not over things that would make them want to kill her.
"No, nobody," I say firmly.
"So nobody with a grudge against her?"
"Maybe it was some crazy fan of hers," I mumble.
John Lennon had been killed that way, right?
"Were you aware of any unstable fans that were stalking her?"
"No, there were none!" I yell, fed up.
He takes the hint and backs off.
"Let's take a break. Would you like something to drink?"
I shake my head and look down at my hands on my lap.
Miki's dead...
It's no time to drink.
"Would you like to get some fresh air?" the woman asks.
I shake my head blankly.
I sit in my chair. Some of the men leave. Some stay, looking awkward in the silence. I stare ahead and try to grasp the enormity of what's going on.
Miki is dead. Dead. Somebody pushed her into a river and now she doesn't breathe anymore. I saw her just a little over twenty-four hours ago. She was alive. Soft and warm. I can remember every single detail.
Who could do this to her? Had she bothered someone so much that he or she had decided to kill her? Had she looked at a gang member the wrong way while coming home? Had it been an accidental push?
"I want to ask questions," I say aloud.
The woman straightens up.
"What questions?"
"Who found her body?"
The woman exchanges glances with another officer. They tell me to wait for Sugiura to come back. He does so with a fresh mug of coffee. One of the officers takes him aside and speaks to him quietly. He looks over and me and comes back to sit in front of me.
"A jogger saw a body washed up on the side of the river at around five this morning."
What a frightening sight...
"How did you get her phone? It still works."
"We found the phone about half a kilometre away. It was on the riverbank. There were signs of a struggle."
I absorb. Sugiura studies me carefully, and perhaps after seeing I'm starving for any piece of information, he continues.
"Our estimates at the moment state that she died perhaps four hours before her body was found, placing time of death at around one in the morning. The beginning of decomposition has no..."
I suddenly don't want to hear the details. I start to feel dizzy. Sugiura continues to go into detail about her blood, her skin, rigor mortis, how being under water delays decomposition... and I can't hold it in any longer.
I bolt out of my chair and out the door, looking for a washroom. I spot the sign for one and I run to it, my heart racing, my stomach churning. My throat is constricted as I try to hold everything down. I can hear people running after me and calling out, but it sounds very distant. My ears are stuffed with iron that weighs me down and converts their words into a muffled, foreign language.
I get to the washroom and burst into a stall. I fall to my knees and proceed to throw up the entire contents of my stomach. I clutch the toilet seat with weak, sweaty hands as I gag and cry. The pain is unimaginable and my chest feels like it's going to explode. I can barely take a breath. Every time I do, I feel sick, and my stomach tries to dispense something that is no longer there. Long after yesterday's lunch and breakfast are dispelled from my body, I remain kneeling there, dry heaving and wishing I was unconscious or dead.
It takes some time for my stomach to calm down. I flush the unsightly mess and sit on the floor, crying. I feel worse than I've ever felt before. My entire life has been a breeze compared to this moment.
I just want her to be alive. We don't even have to be friends. We can hate each other. But I want her to be living and breathing.
Why has this happened? First I get thrown into a strange world where Miki doesn't exist. Then I find her when she's on the verge of being proposed to by her stupid boyfriend of two years. Then I spend an unexpected and pleasant night with her before getting thrown back to where I belong. Then I have less than two weeks to become re-acquainted with this Miki that doesn't even know I've been gone. And then... she ceases to exist. She's killed by someone, but I don't know who.
I've seen her dead before my own eyes.
Another wave of nausea passes through my body. I hunch over the toilet, but nothing happens. I sit back down and sob.
That's when I notice that the woman who's been sitting in the interview room is now in the washroom with me and helping me stand up. She turns on the water and hands me a towel and an unwrapped toothbrush and toothpaste set. She asks if I'm all right.
Of course I'm not.
But I don't say that. I thank her and clean my face and brush my teeth as she cleans up the mess I've made in the stall. I feel weak. My arms and legs shake as I go through the motions of cleaning up.
"I'm sorry you have to go through this and see all that," she says, putting a hand on my shoulder. I want to tell her to take it off. "But if it's any consolation, your answers to our questions can really eventually help us find out who did this."
I sniff and wipe my eyes carefully.
"I want to find who did this now," I say darkly.
Once I've composed myself, the woman helps me back to the room where I answer the rest of Sugiura's questions. Some of them don't seem relevant, but I answer them anyway in as much detail as possible. His final question strikes a chord deep inside me.
"If you had to guess and tell us one thing about Miki's recent behaviour that seemed off, what would it be?"
I know without a doubt what it is.
"Her attitude towards work. Lots of meetings - more than usual - and I got a feeling something bad was going to happen. I didn't suspect this, though."
Sugiura thanks me for my time and tells me he'll keep in touch. He asks about Miki's family. I tell him I'll contact them and that they'll make the funeral arrangements. We part on those terms.
I feel so old.
One of the officers drives me back home. We are silent the whole way, me sitting in the back and him glancing in the rear view mirror ever so often to check up on me. Once we get to my building, I get out with a "thanks" and go up to my place.
The minute I'm home, I collapse on the floor and start to cry. I've left Miki all alone in a cold room with only a thin sheet of cloth to cover her. And her skin is ruined, and she can't breath, and her blood doesn't flow, and her body is breaking down and...
I don't know how long I cry for. Two years? Two minutes?
The tears start to wane as I feel the beginnings of an emotion that is almost foreign to me because I rarely feel it: rage. It's bottled up inside me and now it's spilling out.
Who did this?
I think hard.
Her work. Someone at work. It has to be.
But why? Was she going to get a tour or an album that somebody else wanted? Was somebody jealous of her accomplishments? What was the motive?
But why didn't she answer her messages all day? If she wasn't killed until one in the morning, she would have been alive when I mailed her. What made her lose contact?
It doesn't add up, and I grit my teeth in frustration.
But then I kick myself in the head. Did she even show up at work yesterday? Maybe something happened before she got there.
With a quivering hand, I call up the main office.
"U-Con records, main office. How can I help you?"
"H-hi, Tsuyoshi-kun?" I ask in a trembling voice.
Tsuyoshi is the youngest employee at U-Con records at age nineteen. He answers phones and makes coffee while keeping in mind his future dream to be a music producer. We've met in person a few times in the past year when I've gone to see Miki, but our relationship is mostly a phone one. I've called Miki many a time at work and chatted with this young, sweet boy when she hasn't been available. Miki always teases... would always tease me about Tsuyoshi having a huge crush on me, and that since I loved to hear my own voice and he loved to keep me talking, it was the perfect relationship. All I ever had to say to that was that he was a surprisingly mature boy and that if she wasn't careful, my inner cougar would emerge before I turned thirty and I'd dump her like a pail of water for him. Of course I never really meant it.
"Oh, Matsuura-san!" he says cheerfully.
"Can I ask you a question?" I ask, skipping our usual small talk.
"Uh, sure."
"Did Miki show up at work yesterday?"
"Yup. Same as usual."
I begin to feel like I'm facing a life-sized jigsaw puzzle that has no solution. The pieces don't match.
"What time did she leave?"
"Hmm. Just before seven. Around six forty-five, I'd say. I left a bit after her at seven."
Just before seven. That means she would have been at my place by seven thirty, eight if she dawdled and went to a bookstore or something. It doesn't make sense.
"Thanks, Tsuyoshi-kun."
"But it's odd. She hasn't shown up for work today yet."
I swallow down the sob that threatens to escape.
"Actually, there's a reason for that. She won't be going to work anymore."
His silence is a confused one. I explain in a few words what has happened.
"I..."
He's stunned into forgetting how to speak.
"Oh..."
I hear him swallow over the phone.
"I'll let the, um, boss know..."
"If you need to talk to me, call me on my cell phone anytime."
The offer is private, not business. I'm speaking to him, not U-Con, and he knows that. I feel bad because I've essentially just pointed a finger at this company he answers phones for. I'm sure the police will be crawling all over the walls soon, and Tsuyoshi might get confused. He's so young...
I know he hasn't done anything wrong. He adores Miki and respects her even more than most people who are close to her. To him, she is - was - his older sister. I'm the older sister's hot friend who he's nuts over.
We somehow end the conversation. He mumbles goodbye. I hang up and stare at my phone. I know that I have to call Miki's family, but I can't bring myself to do it.
I dial a number. It goes directly to an answering machine.
"Hi! This is Shibata. I'm away for the week. Send me an e-mail."
I curse. I've forgotten that she's in Spain.
Why is she there? When I need her the most, she's gone.
I take my cell phone out and write her an e-mail. I'm not sure what to say to her.
Shiba-chan. Miki's dead. I don't know what to do. Please call. Anytime.
I press 'send' and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
My phone call to Hokkaido is painful. I speak to Miki's mother. She's in denial for the first minute and refuses to believe that it's actually me on the phone. However, I start to cry and it hits her that her cherished daughter is gone. I give her all the information I know and tell her that I'll keep in contact. She wants Miki's body sent to Hokkaido, and I tell her I'll inquire about that at the police station. There's no question I'm invited to Hokkaido for the funeral. Miki's mom knows I love Miki like my own sister (although nothing more than that). I'm treated like family.
After the phone call, I lie down on the floor and let my mind wander for a few hours.
I ponder the same questions over and over.
Why?
Who?
And I think about the things Miki and I will never do together again. We'll never go to the zoo together, so shopping together, listen to music together. Never ever again. I'll never scold her again, she'll never pester me again, we'll never laugh it off again...
I wallow in my pain and sorrow until my phone rings.
-
Chapter 8
I jump up from the floor and run to my phone.
Shiba-chan!
"Hello?" I ask, on the point of tears.
"Hello, this is Sugiura. Could you come down to the office? We have some more things we need to discuss."
My heart drops, but I remind myself that he might have some news. I say it's okay, and he sends a patrol car to pick me up. It comes within seven minutes, and I sit in the back feeling alone and cold.
Just like Miki's body.
I can't shake the sense of dread I get when I walk into the police department building again. This time when I meet with Sugiura, he looks much more stern. I wonder what he has to say. He's got another man in the office with him.
I sit down.
"We're moved our investigation to Fujimoto-san's apartment," he informs me.
My stomach lurches, but I hold myself down. It was bound to happen, yet I still feel like protecting Miki's privacy. It's an invasion that feels disrespectful. That's her apartment, and only she can give people permission to enter.
I notice that Sugiura is eyeing me strangely.
"Oh. And?" I ask.
"Your fingerprints. They're all over."
I frown and go on alert. I don't know where this is heading.
"How did you get my fingerprints?" I demand.
Sugiura and the other man exchange nervous, guilty looks.
"Listen," Sugiura says, facing me again. "We take all precautions. We're very thorough in our investigation."
What a bastard. Such an evasive answer. I hate him. I bet when that woman cleaned up the washroom this morning, she didn't just clean up. She must have lifted my prints. Bastards. All of them.
"I did not kill her," I say in a hard, dangerous voice. I'm offended by the mere suggestion.
"We don't think you did," Sugiura says in a calm, reassuring voice. "We just want to know why your prints are on everything in her apartment."
"Because I go over there a lot," I say tersely.
Sugiura frowns.
"And you touch everything? Your prints are on all her furniture, her books, her bowls, her stove... everything. We checked thoroughly."
Oh yeah? Did you check her body? 'Cause my fingerprints are all over that, too.
"I said I go over there a lot," I repeat firmly.
Sugiura seems to want to continue, but his partner stops him with a look. Sugiura conceded. He moves on.
"Are you aware of Miki keeping any sort of record or journal?"
All other thoughts in my head cease. Journal. Of course!
"No. If there isn't one in her apartment, then I guess there isn't one at all." I find myself saying.
Lying.
I know the real answer to the question.
I also know what I'm doing now is impeding an investigation. Withholding information. But I can't let them read the journal that I'm fairly sure Miki usually keeps at home. If they haven't found it, it's probably at her workplace. It's the only other place.
They ask me a few more questions and then let me go. Sugiura's partner offers me a ride home, but I decline.
As soon as I'm out of their company, I ring up Tsuyoshi.
"U-Con Re-"
"Tsuyoshi!" I say quickly. He starts to ask in a shaky voice how I am, but I cut him off. "Have the police been by yet?"
"N-no, not yet."
He sounds shaken and confused.
"Good. I need you to do me a favour."
"Anything," he says obediently.
"Can you go into Miki's office room without anyone seeing you?"
There's a pause.
"Yeah. I'm going in now."
I hear him walk, open a door, and then close it.
"All right. Now look in the top drawer of her desk for a key. It should be in a little red box from a tea company."
I hear him rummage around.
"Got it."
"Now open the bottom drawer with that key."
I hear him comply.
"What am I looking for?" he asks.
"A book. It should have little puppy dogs on the front."
He goes through whatever is locked away in that drawer.
"Found it."
"Good. Now please take it with you. Don't let anyone see it or you. I'll be by soon to pick it up. If the police come, do not tell them you went into the office this afternoon. If they ask if I called, you can say yes, but tell them we just talked about Miki."
"I got it."
He sounds even more confused. I wish I didn't have to scare him like this.
But there's no way I'm letting those dirty investigators get their hands on Miki's most intimate thoughts.
And I've realized that if I have the journal, I can search for hints myself. Find out who did this for myself...
"I have to go now," I say quickly. "See you later."
I hang up and head for the train station.
I understand fully what I have just done. My relationship with the investigators just got tricky.
That's okay, though. I don't care. I don't feel like playing by their rules. They're not getting anything done. It's quite obvious they're not doing a good job if they're coming to me and accusing me of having something to do with this murder.
My rage surfaces it again and this time I channel it towards all those know-it-all detectives.
They don't know a thing.
-
Chapter 9
I go immediately to U-Con Records. Tsuyoshi is sitting at the front desk looking spaced out. He's all alone. Nobody else is in the reception foyer.
He sees me and stands up.
"Hey," he says, holding up something. "I've got it."
He hands me a UNIQLO bag. Nice touch.
"Thank you," I say with the deepest gratitude I can muster. "This will really help."
"Matsuura-san?" he asks as I turn around to leave.
"Yes?"
"How can you do that? Manage to keep going?"
He looks like a lost boy who has no family, no answers, no clues. If only he knew I felt even worse than that.
I smile at him sadly.
"Tsuyoshi-kun, I'm barely here."
With that, I leave.
I catch the train home in a daze.
It's almost five thirty by the time I get home. I sit down and have a glass of water. Halfway through it, the phone rings. I almost don't answer it because I don't want to talk to Sugiura anymore. I cave in because it might be important.
"Hello?"
"Aya-chan. What happened??" are the first words out of Shibata's mouth.
I break down and explain as much as I can. How Miki wasn't in touch all day, how she didn't come over after work, how I went to the morgue, and how Sugiura harassed me with suspicious questions.
A shocked silence follows my explanation. Someone calls out something in Spanish in the background, but Shibata ignores the noise. I sit there for about thirty seconds before Shibata takes a breath to speak.
"I don't... I can't even think," she states.
"Shiba-chan..." I mumble sadly.
The one who's supposed to be a steady rock, a voice of reason, and never phased, has become speechless. It makes the crime that much worse. It doesn't even make sense to the most sensible of people.
"I, um..." she trails off distractedly as the voice in the background calls again. She covers the mouthpiece and calls out in response to the voice. She comes back on the line. "I'll come back as soon as possible."
The polite side of me that doesn't like to impose on people wants to yell out "no, that's not necessary," but my grief and anger overwhelm me and keep my mouth shut. Shiba-chan is the best friend I have on this Earth right now, and I need her like I've never needed anyone else in my life.
"I'll e-mail you a number. Call me if you need anything in the next few hours. I'll get in touch with you once I manage to get a flight."
"Okay."
"I'm staying with a family named Romero. They speak a little English. Just ask for me."
I nod again and mumble another reply.
"Aya-chan, just... just hang in there. Don't do anything stupid. I'm coming soon."
We hang up.
Don't do anything stupid? I look down at the bag sitting beside me. I've already done something she'd probably consider stupid.
I open the bag and carefully take out the journal, running my finger along the edges, tracing all four sides. I wonder what Miki would think if she saw me now, holding her thoughts in my hands and preparing to read them. Would she be embarrassed? Try and stop me? Urge me on to read?
I stand up and go into my bedroom, sliding the door shut and sitting on my bed. I look to my left and see Mr. Monkey lying on his side by the wall. I pick him up and squeeze him tightly. I put him in my lap.
I take a deep breath and I flip the cover open. The first page is blank. I turn it over, handling the pages gingerly as if they're pieces of a holy manuscript.
The entries start in February of this year. She's not one for many words. She doesn't lie to herself or beat around the bush. Not anymore. She's grown up a lot since I first got to know her.
With an uttered apology, I begin reading the small, compact handwriting.
-
Chapter 10
February 6th
I got a new book to write in. My other one ran out of space. Sometimes I hate keeping this thing. It's so embarrassing to read back over. But sometimes I get so bored on my own. Also, I can't possibly say every single thing that's on my mind to the people that matter. Maybe when I'm done with this - or better yet, at the end of the year - I'll give it to Aya to read. I don't think I'd mind at all. She knows everything about me anyway. These are just things I forget to say or that are too embarrassing but that I know she knows.
February 26th
Happy birthday to me!
Of course Aya forgot. I know she does it on purpose. I'm gonna get back at her good one day and teach her a lesson. She'll regret she ever neglected me on my birthday.
I'm at work now and it's a slow day. I've been sitting here trying to think of ideas. We're having a meeting next week and I want to ask some questions about procedure and stuff like that. I'm relatively new here, so I'm not quite sure how everything works.
It's weird to have a desk in an office. I'm a performer, not a salaryman. When I got to work this morning (after Aya all but ignored me when we woke up), some of my new coworkers sang happy birthday to me. After work, we're going for drinks. Ever since Katherine has been "on loan" to us from her company, we've all been partying a lot more. Maybe it's an American thing. And here I was thinking Japanese were big drinkers. At least she speaks Japanese fluently. God forbid I have to use my horrible English on her.
I hope Aya calls 20 times to find out why I'm late tonight. Hah! Aww, but maybe I'll send her an e-mail before it gets too late. Don't wanna worry her. Maybe at 8:30.
February 27th
Bad hangover. I've felt nauseous all day, but I can't go home yet. I'm waiting for Fujinuma to get out of a meeting so that I can talk to her about my new single. Killing time now.
Last night we went out and drank too much. I don't know how late I got home, but I remember Aya was there. She was pissed off at first because I ended up not calling and she was expecting to hang out with me. I ranted about how she forgot it was my birthday, and if she wanted to forget, that was fine by me, but that she shouldn't expect me to not make other plans. She actually said sorry to me. Ha! I won that round. But she wouldn't let me drink anything else even though I wanted to with her. I fell asleep on the floor. I only know that because this morning, she complained about having to drag me onto my bed. I guess that was her birthday present to me. Hah.
But... I'm not actually mad at her, and I know she's not mad at me. Just the same game we play. Our power struggle.
March 15th
I can't stand it when Hashimoto gets on my case. I know I go flat when I do lives. He doesn't have to be such an asshole about it.
March 16th
Hashimoto can piss me off as much as he wants. Aya's really good at cheering me up. It's like living with bliss and ecstacy right beside you, every touch like heaven, every word like music.
March 17th
We've had a spell of really cold weather. Aya's gone south for a tour for a couple of weeks so I'm all on my own.
I find I get stupidly poetic in the winter. Things are dark and it feels like I can let loose under that cover of darkness and be a bit more sentimental.
March 30th
I'm worried about getting old. Fujinuma asked me to do something three times, but I kept forgetting. What'll happen when I start to find grey hairs? Or get wrinkles? I don't want to be unable to do things I do today. If I want to climb a mountain, I want to be able to. If I want to recall every single details of the past, I want to be able to. If I want to stay up all night, I want to be able to. None of this wishy washy "maybe I can, maybe I can't" crap.
April 3rd
My bathroom sink pipe exploded on me. It was disgusting. So much gunk flowed out of it, and it stank. I had to get an emergency repair man to come and fix it, but it took him three hours to get here. They were busy with other emergencies. I sat on the balcony and drank coffee to get away from the smell indoors. Cherry blosom viewing from my own apartment. Haha, very pathetic.
By the time the guy came to fix the sink, I was wired, and I think he noticed. He joked around with me for a bit, and I loved it. I've been feeling so out of touch lately. I haven't spoken with many people lately, and since Aya's been on that tour, I haven't really made the effort. Hah, I can blame my loneliness on her.
Anyway, when the guy left, he gave me his card, but I looked at it later and saw that he'd written his own number on it. I wonder if I should call him up just to make Aya jealous. I still have to get my revenge for my birthday. I'd go out for coffee with him while she's in Kyushu, and then I'd make sure she found out.
Of course I'd never do that! Ha! I could never. I wouldn't want to. There's a line that I won't cross. We like to joke and tease each other, but not in a spiteful way. We actually do like each other and get along. Hah. We don't hold back around each other, but we treat each other with respect. Sometimes, though, I wonder if
April 9th
I forgot what I was going to write last time. I was interrupted by the phone. It's bothering me. Ug. I "sometimes wonder" about a lot of things.
Tomorrow I have to film my Music Fighter appearance. I'm still preparing for it. They always make me laugh so much that my cheeks hurt because they can't relax.
April 19th
Maybe this was what I meant to write about on April 3rd.
I'm pretty brave, pretty confident, pretty blunt. I don't really care what unimportant people think of me. But with people I respect, I care deeply. Aya's one of those people. I endear myself to her and get close to her because I like her so much.
I think many people have a best friend who is different from their favourite friend. A favourite friend is someone they like to do stuff with and have the most fun with. A best friend is someone who might not be a partier, but he/she has some big effect on the person's life. He/she helps that person and that person can be perfectly honest with him/her.
For me, I'm lucky because Aya's both my best friend and my favourite friend. She's my idol, the person I respect most, the person I worry about most, the person I love most. But what am I to her? I know we don't really talk about that out loud because sometimes you can't define it in words, but still... Sometimes I wonder if she likes me as much as I like her.
May 2
Do I treat people badly? I had a confrontation with Noriko today and she told me I'm not so nice all the time. I think she misunderstands me. I'm not rude, but I don't baby people when they need to hear the truth. I don't soften the blow. I tell them what they need to know, not what they want to hear. Not many people understand that. I don't want to make enemies because of it. I wish people were more understanding.
May 17th
I've got Fujinuma backing me up at work. Some seniors got upset because I just swept in here and got myself a bunch of golden opportunities. Lots of promo work, lots of lives, two singles, and rumours of an album. Fujinuma told them off. Love that woman.
Katherine went back to her country a couple of days ago. I kind of miss having her around, but I'm glad we won't be partying so much anymore. I swear I've gained three kilos from beer alone since she's been here.
May 31st
I got the green light for an album. Celebration time!
June 4th
I hate Kuniko with a passion. She and Ohashi can go to hell.
June 10th
Best day ever!!
June 15th
Did I mention before that I love Aya to death? When she says things like she did yesterday, I can't believe that I'm alive and on this world. She came over to my place after work and waxed rhapsodic on how wonderful I am and what an inspiration I am to her. I wasn't upset and I wasn't searching for comfort or ego-boosting, but I got it anyway. I wonder why she does things like that. It makes me feel impossible good.
Yesterday she carried on for a good ten minutes before pausing. I don't usually feel real embarrassment around her, but yesterday I couldn't talk because I was so embarrassed, not to mention touched. Later on when we went to sleep, I wanted to thank her some way, but I couldn't even begin to. I just lay there, and by the time I did think of something good to say, she was already asleep. I hope she knows how grateful I am for everything she's done for me. I think she knows. She knows that sometimes I don't say everything I want to say. So... when I don't say things, I hope she can feel the words coming from me. Maybe radiating off my skin.
June 23rd
I'm so worn out. It's been a crazy busy week. I want to stop and breathe, but there's no time. Gotta do my best till the end.
July 5th
Ug. So hot. Can't breathe.
July 6th
Katherine called our office. We all talked with her. She's crazy. But I kind of love that.
July 13th
Save me! Hottest summer in 76 years. How?! Why?!
July 20th
Fuck you, Aya. No, really. Stop bitching about everything that I do. I'm allowed to have a life.
God, she is so annoying when she acts all morally superior or whatever. I know how to take care of myself. I can handle the work. I'm not a twig that's going to snap easily. I can take a few bumps. She doesn't have to lead me and take care of me all the time.
Fuck you. Take me seriously for once.
July 22nd
I feel really bad for writing what I did. We talked. She was just worried for me 'cause she cares. I know that, but I guess I've been a bit tense with all this work lately. She told me she takes me seriously and I believe her. I take back those nasty words.
Waiting for her to come over now. All I want is a hug and that'll be enough.
August 28th
Had another dumb fight with Aya again. I think the heat makes us cranky. That and all the work. It's all good now. I don't like having ill feelings between us, but in a way it's good. We let all that steam out. And of course the after part. Haha, we should argue more often. Kinda turns me on.
September 3rd
Terrace Café, 5:15.... ?
September 4th
It looks like I've got something potentially good. That was an interesting meeting. Now that I've got this album...
September 30th
I've been so busy at work, plus all these extra meetings. I deal with some strange people sometimes, but I guess I like them well enough. I've been neglecting some things at home. I've been neglecting some people. It makes me feel bad.
October 17th
Fucking hell. She's going to be gone for three months. Stupid Italy.
October 24th
Aya leaves tomorrow evening. My time is stretched between work, meetings, and her. I want to spend all of it with her. Three months... I think I might cry. Actually, I am crying a little right now. I don't want her to leave. She's so cheery and happy, even when she's not. To me, she's always shining in some way. If somehow she can come home early, I'll be so thankful. I try to be strong for her, but it's tough when you love someone so much that you're rendered weak and susceptible to all sorts of emotional bullets. I'm watching her right now. She's fast asleep, but I couldn't fall asleep no matter how warm I was. I had to write something.
October 27th
Ha! I swear she was abducted by aliens. All her crazy talk. But I love her. She's staying. Oh, she's staying!!
October 28th
I'm so weirded out right now. What have I gotten myself into?
October 31st
She's so perfect. Why is this happening to me? I've never been more terrified in my life. They say if I tell anyone, they'll kill her. I believe them.
November 6th
I can't move from my office. They know I'm going to say something tonight. They just know. I can't call, can't talk to anyone, can't even write about it here. I'm going to keep this book here tonight. I don't want it with me. I just want to be back home with her. That way I can try to make sure nobody gets hurt.
I'm so scared.
-
Chapter 11
What the...?
I put down the book, my hands trembling. I'm filled with even more of the same sick feeling that's been inside me ever since the police called.
Somebody was harassing her. Somebody threatened her. But what was it about?
I go back and read the entire book once more. It doesn't take too long. I focus on the last three entries. They sound very mysterious. Is the "her" she's writing about me? Did someone threaten to kill me? What kind of secret did Miki have that made them threaten people close to her? What did she do to aggravate someone to the point of doing that?
I flip back to the entry on June 4th.
Kuniko. Ohashi.
I wrack my brain trying to remember who they are. As far as I can remember, though, they're just fellow co-workers on the same label as Miki. If memory serves correctly, Kuniko is a b-grade singer (according to Miki), and Ohashi is some older guy who can dance but whose singing is nothing to write home about. Could they have done something to her?
No, that would be too obvious.
What about Noriko? I know Noriko from a party a few months ago, but she doesn't strike me as a dangerous person who would want to kill someone.
Nobody does. Nobody at her work would do that. She would have told me if there was anyone she thought was going to hurt her.
But then I look at the second last entry.
They say if I tell anyone, they'll kill her.
Why would she believe these people? She could have told me anything and nobody else would ever know. How bad was this thing she knew?
Reading this journal has caused me more confusion than I thought it could. It's answered none of my questions.
I briefly consider handing it over to the police, but I stop that thought. There will be too much to explain. I've already lied to them, and I've even involved Tsuyoshi. I have to keep silent. Anyway, the things Miki has written about are too personal. I don't want anyone to know them. I don't care that they involve me. I just want to protect her last bits of dignity. She wouldn't want her life to be an open book to just anyone.
So that leaves me with a big question mark floating over my head. Who was harassing Miki, who killed her, and why?
I need to answer these questions, because once I do, I will find the people responsible and rip their throats out.
I drop the book from my hands and grab the covers on my bed, squeezing hard. The rage resurfaces and I want to scream. I hold it in and take a deep breath, counting to ten before I let go and exhale. I open the book again and read slowly from the beginning.
I wish I'd gotten her a birthday present. I had meant to "forget" her birthday this year because I was going to surprise her after work, but then she went and got drunk at some other party and ruined it. I felt really bad, but I never told her that I had planned to do something for her. I guess now she'll never know...
It breaks my heart to read her entry where she wonders if I like her as much as she likes me. Of course I do. She's also my favourite friend and my best friend. I begin to cry because now I can't tell her that. I think she knew, though. She probably let go of that fear after writing it down. She must have known because she never wrote about it again. If it bothered her, she would have written about it. Right?
After reading about how we argued (the memory of those arguments comes back, and now I miss them more than anything), I stop at the first entry for the month of September.
"Terrace Café, five-fifteen, September third," I read out loud.
The Terrace Café is our place. We go there a lot because of the nice atmosphere, and nobody bothers us. I wonder what kind of meeting she had there.
It's odd, though. That café isn't exactly a place where one would think to have a meeting. And why that particular one? There are dozens of other places in Tokyo in which to have meetings.
She also seems to have been caught off guard by it. Her question mark probably shows that she's not the one that called the meeting.
So who did?
When I find you I'm gonna kill you, you bastard. Rip your heart out and see how you like it.
My hands itch to call Shibata and tell her about these things I've discovered, but there's no point. She's either on her way over here if she managed to get a flight for today, or she's getting ready to leave and shouldn't be disturbed. I hope she calls me as soon as she lands. I need to talk to someone I can trust completely.
I read the same few pages over and over again. It seems impossible that almost a whole year's worth of unspoken thoughts are contained within these ten pages. I guess she really does tell me everything. Did. She really did tell me everything.
(No. Thinking in the past tense hurts too much. I can't do it.)
Maybe she just doesn't like to write much. She said so herself. She's not the most eloquent writer, but then again, neither am I. At least I can get into it and get all flowery and dramatic. She's too shy, even with herself.
I flip through the blank pages mindlessly until I discover something. There's some writing on a few of the pages near the back of the book.
The third last page has a poem written on it. As I read it, I realise that it's the song that she was trying to write before she- no. Just... the song that she was trying to write. At the bottom of the page, she's scribbled some things. There are some pictures that I can't quite make out. Maybe animals or people. And there's my name with a heart around it.
I read the song over and over again. It's pretty terrible, but suddenly it means a whole lot more. I can't stop the tears as I look at this ridiculous song and think of how she's never going to work on it again. I'll never hear her sing it in the shower again.
I throw the book down and yell at the top of my lungs. Nothing intelligible. A mess of gibberish. I scream out words of death and killing, and I bawl my fists up, pounding them down on my bed. I fall forward and cry into the blankets, sobbing out that I want to kill whoever killed her. That I won't rest until I've found him. I tell her that I'm sorry for letting this happen to her.
I lose control for those five minutes, and then pull myself together. I have to keep sane. Whoever did this to her is still out there, and I'm sure I can't be safe if they are.
I turn to the next page and I grow even sadder. It's an entry that she didn't write in the main part of the book for a silly reason. I read it quietly in my head.
June 23rd
I can't keep this a secret anymore!! But I have to write it back here just in case Aya reads my journal before the 25th. You never know. Sometimes I keep it at her place, but I don't tell her. I mean, of course I trust her, but still. Like I said, you never know. Hahaha! I don't think people usually flip to the back of a book when they read, so let's hope this works.
Anyway, for her birthday, I got her this stupid book she's been going on about wanting to read. Not just that, but I got it signed by the author. Yesterday he had a two-hour autograph session at Kinokuniya. Aya had to work and she complained ad nauseum about not being able to go. I ignored her pretty much all day, and I managed to get time off to go to the session. I got the book signed and addressed to her. I can't wait to see her reaction. She'll either worship me for thinking of her and taking time off, or kill me 'cause I got to meet her favourite author. I hope it's the first one!
I remember that clearly. I thought she was going to give me a taste of my own medicine and ignore me on my birthday, but no. When I woke up to my screeching alarm and grudgingly got out of bed to go to work, she was already up and in the living room watching TV. A rare thing for her. She saw me and tossed me a bag that I barely caught. I opened it and saw that book and smiled... and then when she told me to open it to the first title page, I almost died. For a moment I did feel jealous that she'd gotten to meet him, but that quickly changed into gratitude, and I didn't think that I could ever say "thank you" enough times.
I start to feel myself losing control again, so I grab my cell phone and check my e-mail for that number Shibata has sent me. She's included the directions for long distance calling. I yank my phone off the hook and dial quickly.
It takes a while to connect.
The ringing starts.
After four rings, someone picks up.
"Dígame."
"Eh... Shiba.... eh... Ayumi?"
"No. Ya se fue. Hace como veinte minutos."
This requires a different approach.
"Ahh... Japanese? English? I look for Ayumi," I say into the phone in English.
"Ahh, sorry. She has left. She buy a ticket for, eh, a plane. Ehh, twenty minutes since gone."
I just barely understand.
"So sorry. Thank you. Bye!" I say quickly, and I hang up as the other person says something along the lines of "it's okay, bye."
So she's managed to buy a plane ticket? Or she's out buying one now? Either way, I can't talk to her for a while.
My life is a waiting game right now. I pick up the journal that I threw down in a rage and I re-read it.
This time around, something nags at the back of my mind. After the Terrace Café entry in September, she speaks about her meetings as if they're separate from her work.
I've been so busy at work, plus all these extra meetings.
My time is stretched between work, meetings, and her.
It might just be my imagination or my paranoia, but something is not right about that. But there's no way for me to find out. I should have asked Tsuyoshi to grab her agenda book while he was in her office.
Tsuyoshi. Of course. Who else would know better than him? He's the secretary. He's sure to have handled scheduling, or at least seen the calendars fifty times per day. He'd probably be able to answer my questions.
I know I have to have his cell phone number somewhere. I'm fairly certain he gave it to me a few months ago, something which Miki teased me about a lot. I look through my address book and find it. There must be some lucky star on my side for the time being.
I dial up the number and wait patiently.
"Hello?" asks a tired voice.
"Hi, Tsuyoshi-kun," I say.
It takes him almost no time to identify who I am.
"Oh, hi. What can I do for you?" he asks with unimaginable hope in his voice.
"Do you have time now? I just want to ask you a question or two."
"Sure. Does this have to do with Fujimoto-san?"
His voice weakens at the mention of her name. My stomach weakens, too.
"Yes," I say quietly. His silence is my pass to continue. "Did Miki have a lot of meetings?"
"Yes, but not more than any of our other employees. She's- she was popular with the bosses, so she got lots of extra opportunities."
"What about outside of the company. Did she have any extra meetings at any cafés or restaurants?"
"Um..." Tsuyoshi thinks hard. "I can't recall ever seeing one on the schedule."
"What about-"
"Wait," he says, interrupting me. "I've got my giant agenda book from work. I bring it home sometimes. I've got everybody's bookings written in there. Let me get it."
"Thanks."
I wait while he runs over to wherever he keeps the book.
"Okay, I've got it here. Do you have any particular date in mind?"
He's on the same wavelength as me.
"September 3rd. Anything out of the office scheduled for around 5:15?"
He flips through pages and then stops.
"Nope. Nothing for September 3rd. Actually, she had no meetings here or outside."
Suspicious.
"And nothing on the next day either?"
"No. Nothing."
So this meeting she had must have been... personal? But it sounded like it was work-related.
"What about after that? For the months of September and October. Can you tell me what kinds of meetings she had?"
Tsuyoshi flips through the pages of his book, no doubt memorising when and where Miki had meetings.
"They're all meetings in the office. Nothing outside. No business lunches or anything like that."
I try not to yell out in frustration. What were these meetings she was going to?!
I take a deep breath to calm myself.
"Tsuyoshi-kun, can you think hard about Miki during the months of September and October? Was there anything that seemed off about her? Did she do or say anything strange? Maybe act out of character?"
I can hear him breathing as he thinks. I've probably scared him more than I should. I can feel him wanting to ask me questions, but he's being polite.
"Nothing strange, but she did leave early quite a bit in the past half month. Well, not early. She used to stay overtime till seven or eight, but lately she was leaving at four-thirty or five. It sounded like she was just busy at home. It happened maybe two or three times a week."
An icy hand grips my heart. As far as I knew it, she was working at her U-Con office until late and then going home right after. Now I'm hearing that sometimes she left early some days and essentially disappeared for a few hours. I have never been a maniac about keeping track of her. She has - had - her own life, and who was I to need a record of how she spent every single minute of her day?
But it just seems odd that she never talked about it with me. Why wouldn't she mention these extra meetings? Why did she make everything she did sound like it was part of her official work? I have a very bad feeling.
"Did anybody strange call for her? Or did one person call her frequently? More than usual?" I ask, my voice shaking a bit.
"Um... no. I mean, you call - called - her more than anyone. Other than that, nobody seemed to call her too many times."
Oops. Did I really call her that much? No use dwelling on that now, though.
"I see..."
I run a shaky hand through my hair and try to think.
"Matsuura-san, was Fujimoto-san in any trouble? I mean, you mentioned the police earlier..." Tsuyoshi asks timidly.
"Sorry. I honestly don't know. She might have been in trouble, but as a victim. So the police didn't show up there today?"
"No."
I'm positive that they'll show up tomorrow.
"Tsuyoshi-kun, I know I'm asking a lot of you, but can you keep this quiet? That we talked about Miki's schedule? I think the police are looking in the wrong direction, and with me being nosey, they're going to think I have something to do with it. I need you to trust me for a bit..."
I know that I really am asking a lot of him. He can say no anytime to me, deny me information, and go straight to the police with what we've talked about.
But he's a very loyal boy. I've learned that. I have faith in him.
"Matsuura-san, I would rather be arrested and thrown into the slammer than let you down. If somebody did hurt Fujimoto-san, I want him brought to justice."
I almost shed a tear at the love I hear in his voice. Definitely not your typical nineteen-year-old boy.
"Thank you. You can't imagine how much that means. I have to go now, but keep in touch, okay?"
We say goodbye and hang up.
I look down at the journal entry for September third.
Terrace Café.
I have a feeling that whoever I'm looking for, he or she is connected to that meeting. It has to be. There's no other explanation.
I'm taking a gigantic leap here. I don't know how to be a cop. There's a reason why I never finished high school.
But to do what I'm going to do, I need somebody by my side. I need some brains. I need someone with common sense. I need Shiba-chan.
Hopefully she'll be here soon.
I turn off the lights and lie down on my bed, the journal right beside me, Mr. Monkey above my head.
Sleep takes a long time to come, but when it does, I'm grateful, because for a few hours, I can escape from the gut-wrenching pain that I'm trying to cover up by playing detective.
-
And the plot thickens! lol I just wanted to say that...
Action is the best way to ignore pain...if you dwell on it too much, it hurts more...sigh.
More please!
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Man, I just posted my comment for Ch 10 a few hours ago too. Oh well, basically this part
I go back and read the entire book once more. It doesn't take too long. I focus on the last three entries. They sound very mysterious. Is the "her" she's writing about me? Did someone threaten to kill me? What kind of secret did Miki have that made them threaten people close to her? What did she do to aggravate someone to the point of doing that?
sums up what I was thinking then.
So Miki's meetings were secret? That can't be good. Someone must have been coercing her or something.
-
'Chapter 10
"She told me she takes me seriously and I believe her. I take back those nasty words.
Waitin for her to come over now. All I want is a hug and that'll be enough."'
Wahhh, Miki!!!... :'( Was she mixed up with some gangs or something, I wonder...
So...the unknown villains were messing with Miki over Aya? I say...Tachibana Keita killed Miki because he was jealous!!!
...or not.
hum...
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^ Nah. Keita is too much of a wuss to even think of laying a finger on... well, anyone XD
...OTN1 I loved Miki's journal entries.
I feel like I've been given clues but I still can't piece them together yet.
*sigh* must be patient! :(
-
Terrace Café. Is that the one with the owner who asked Miki why she never picked the suggested dessert? XD Some observant person, said owner was...
I won't say more, this time. I'll just sit and wait for the action to unfold before my eyes. Sometimes it's better this way. ;)
-
I'm going to hold off on any guesses now, I'd probably be way off base anyway. For now, I'll just say that I'm interested in Detective Aya and await the clues that she'll dig up.
-
Hahaha, your comments made me giddy. Makes me wish I could write this thing more quickly.
One of you gets a cookie.
You know, I completely forgot about the existence of Tachibana. Wonder what he's up to these days. Well, not really.
Oh, don't hold back. I had an interesting conversation with a friend today about Tsuyoshi's role in this story. Conspiracy theories abound. It's fun.
More to come later tonight.
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Aya being possesive over Miki even after death and her trying to supress her emotions through (potentially dangerous) action is endearing, understandable, (and more importantly) fun to read.
This is the most wacked out theory I can come up with: Tsunku had Miki killed to keep her from "interfering" with his planned HP reunion. (Thats right, his hewlett packard reunion)
Seriously though, there's not really enough evidence for me to make a guess at this point.(right?) If I was forced to make one though, it would be that her company was involved in some shady dealings (perhaps a front for the yakuza?) Miki was somehow pulled into this, and then Very Bad Things Happened. And if this is true, than Aya is putting herself in a lot of danger by trusting Tsuyoshi. Looking foward to the rest of the story, and seeing how far off I am.
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Oh man... the last chapter I remembered reading was the one at the morgue... and then it's like bam! 3 more chapters
This reminds me of a detective mystery type story... except it's so depressing! T_T
You're gonna make the end happy... right? :(
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Wow . . . :o
The journal entry gave me giggles [until the end.] So, anyway, it's not anyone from work, unless they wanted to make "personal business" with her elsewhere . . . I'm wondering what in the hell Miki got herself involved in! [cough]If someone solves this, do we get those 10 chapters of fluff?[/cough]
Keep the crack coming! :D
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Now I can't get the image of detective Aya in a brown trenchcoat and hat and a grim looking expression on her face out of my head XD
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Oh, that lightens the moment a lot. :D Just wait till Shibata gets back. They'll be like Sherlock and Watson, running around Tokyo with their trenchcoats and pipes.
[cough]If someone solves this, do we get those 10 chapters of fluff?[/cough]
Ok, you're all on. Hahaha!
Chapter 12
RIIING! RIIING! RIIING!
I groan at the sound that threatens to rip me away from the safe haven of darkness that my mind has created. Still half gone, I turn my head away from the sound.
RIIING! RIIING! RIIING!
"Can you hit it?" I mumble aloud.
I don't want to move. The alarm clock is on the other side of the bed.
RIIING! RIIING! RIIING!
"Get... get it. Turn it... off," I mutter.
What's taking her so long??
RIIING! RIIING! RII-
Silence.
Ahhh, I think.
I smile warmly as I snuggle back into the covers.
Got it.
I lie there for twenty seconds before I jerk awake completely.
Wait a minute. I didn't just turn off the alarm clock. That means... it was... And it was all a.... a dream!
I shoot up from my bed excitedly, relieved, ecstatic! What a horrible nightma-
I look beside me, but there's nobody there. I look around wildly.
Nobody.
I jump out of my bed and run to the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, the entrance...
Nobody.
It wasn't a nightmare.
No, it is a nightmare. I'm living it now.
I'm all alone.
I walk back to my bedroom blankly. I sit on my bed and stare at the wall.
When the ringing starts again, I scream in fright.
"AAAEEIIIIII!!"
I turn around and look at the alarm clock, but that's not what's making the sound. It's my phone.
I grit my teeth in anger at the false hope that has just overwhelmed my mind and made me feel like it could have all been a dream. I feel so stupid.
I glance at the time. It's half past twelve in the morning. Who could be calling at this hour?
I pick up the phone.
"Hello?"
My voice is surprisingly strong. It must have been that warm-up scream.
"Aya-chan, it's Shibata."
I let out a partial sigh of relief.
"Hi."
"I'm at the airport in Barcelona now. My flight leaves in half an hour. I'll be there in about fourteen hours."
"Why so long?" I ask groggily, rubbing my eyes.
"Layover in Germany," she replies, sounding annoyed. "Anyway, listen. Stay put. I'll go to your place as soon as I've dropped my things off. It might take a while, so I hope you don't mind that I come in the evening."
I make a sound of acknowledgement.
"Hurry, Shiba-chan."
"I know."
I hang up and lie back down, curling up into a small ball, holding the covers tightly. I review the past twenty-four hours in my head. They seem so unbelievable.
Murder. There's been a murder in my life. How can that be possible? I don't lead a normal life, what with being a household name and easily recognisable to three quarters of the country's population, but nothing I've done - or that Miki's done - merits this kind of punishment.
I clench my fists and suddenly I'm nothing but angry. I fantasise about wrapping my hands around the murderer's neck and squeezing tightly until he - or she - can't breathe. Until he falls lifelessly to the ground with a thud.
Within minutes, I break down crying again. How can I want to kill someone so badly? It's not right. I shouldn't think like that.
But I can't help it. It hurts too much.
I fall asleep again, violent dreams leading me through to the next morning.
I'm awoken again by the telephone. This time it doesn't trick me. I check the time before answering.
Nine o'clock. It can't be Shibata. She's probably in mid-flight. It's probably Sugiura.
"Yes?"
"Matsuura-san!" hisses Tsuyoshi's terrified voice.
"Tsuyoshi-kun. What's wrong?" I ask, knowing all too well what must be happening.
"The police. They got here early this morning. They're going through everything in Fujimoto-san's office. They're asking everyone questions. What should I do??"
If I don't calm the boy down, he's going to go into hysterics, and that will benefit neither one of us.
"Tsuyoshi, listen to me," I say sharply. "Breathe. Three times slowly."
I hear him follow my command obediently. His breathing slows down considerably, and he no longer sounds like a rabid dog.
"Remember, the police can't know what we've talked about. Where are you now?" I ask calmly. I don't feel one bit calm.
"In the washroom. I'm alone."
"Good," I say, even though it's really not at all good. "If they ask how you found out about Miki, tell them the truth. But say I called only to tell you about her. Nothing else."
"What do I say if they ask about the other phone call?" he asks nervously. I can hear him just barely managing to keep his cool.
"Just say I was calling to check up on you. Not a word about the journal. It's not a secret that we chat from time to time, right?" I reassure him.
He mumbles something about everyone teasing him about that. At this impossibly whacky time, I crack a smile. I find it almost cute.
"What did you do with the key to Miki's desk?" I ask abruptly, remembering that he didn't mention putting it away.
There's a silence.
Uh oh... What has he done?
"It's at home," he whispers.
I'm not sure whether to feel relieved or angry. Probably more relieved. Whatever is an obstacle to the police is all good to me.
"Okay. Not a word to anyone about it either. As far as we're concerned, we don't know what Miki keeps in the bottom drawer of her desk."
"Wh-what about my fingerprints? What if they search?" he stutters.
That would be bad.
"Do you ever go into her office? Clean up her desk?" I ask hopefully.
"Sometimes I organise the top of her desk when she's not in. She gets really messy."
"Good!" I exclaim, thanking the Fujimoto ancestors for passing on that messy gene to Miki. "Then that's it. You clean up her desk sometimes. If they ask why your prints are on the bottom drawer, just say you were looking for my number because you needed to talk. Tell them you couldn't open it in the end."
He says he understands.
I quiz him to get our stories straight, and then he says he has to go back to his desk. I wish him luck.
When I hang up the phone, I put my head in my hands and stare at the floor.
How can my life be like this? The other day I was lounging around, enjoying my free time and wonderful breakfasts. Now I feel like a fugitive.
It's silly, that's what. Silly.
I get up and get ready to go do something other than sitting and moping. When I'm in the middle of action, I don't dwell on things. I live in that moment. It's when I have time to sit and think that it hurts the most. Everything comes back to me.
Got to keep moving.
Once in the shower, I remind myself that I have to arrange for the transfer of Mi... the body to Hokkaido. I wonder if I'll be allowed to see her again. I question whether I want to.
I do.
But I don't.
Should I feel bad about that? I want to see her because it's her, but I don't want to remember her like that.
But I have to. One more time. One last time. That other time was too sudden.
I finish getting ready and place a call to Sugiura. He's not in - probably because he's heading the investigation at U-Con - so I'm forwarded to his third in command, one of the men who was present at the first interview that I wish to banish from my memory. His name is Cho.
I discuss the issue with him. There's some sort of question as to whether her body should be released before a proper autopsy, and it makes me sick. I know her mother doesn't want her touched. She just wants Miki back on home soil.
I fight for it, but Cho asks for the Fujimoto family's contact information. I give it hesitantly. I have made a promise to take care of everything, yet here it is going out of my control. Cho promises to get in touch with me after he's spoken to the family. He probably thinks he can bully them into thinking his way. Little does he know that the Fujimoto parents are every bit as stubborn as their youngest child is. Was. That's my source of satisfaction.
I start to kill time by cleaning up my apartment.
What a big mistake. I keep running into things that belong to Miki. Her clothes, her books, the miscellaneous junk that somehow accumulates in my bedroom, her hair products...
What am I supposed to do with all this stuff? Keep it? Throw it away? Lock it away in a box and never look at it again?
What about her toothbrush? Her hairbrush? How can I throw those away? What if she needs them? What if... somehow... she needs them? I can't get rid of them.
I leave everything as it is. I sit on my bed with a few of her things in front of me - the pyjamas she wore just the other night, a sweatshirt, and a pair of jeans.
Have I inherited these things? Are they mine? I've always been free to use them, but now it's different. Only I will ever use them.
I fold each item of clothing carefully and put them where I found them. The jeans go back into the drawer, the pyjamas and sweatshirt under the pillow.
Die, you bastard, I think.
I will stalk the person responsible to the ends of the earth and beat him senseless. I will beat him until he doesn't know who he is or which way is up.
Because that's how I feel now.
Raving mad, I stand up and stalk out of my bedroom. I grab my things and leave my apartment, slamming my door angrily.
-
I've always figured Aya would make a good liar, but she's exceeding my expectations with the way she comes up with solutions to the possible questions police might drop on Tsuyoshi... There seems to be a fair share of darkness in her, and I guess we're about to get acquainted with it.
-
make it a dream...a really awful dream......
my miki doesnt deserv to die!
kill aya instead!
aya died, then she can't hav miki until miki dies...so she's fantasying tha miki was murdered!
but...well...sad miki isnt good too... Just let them completly happy for once! >:(
-
I hope the ending involves Ayaya going sukeban-mode on the murderer... with a yo-yo XD
-
The darker side of Aya...definitely showing up full force here...I'm glad?
...if only it were under different circumstances sigh.
Can't wait till Shibata comes back. I get the feeling that's when things get really interesting. Not that it isn't interesting now, just that it gets even better. XD
Well, write more! :P
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I just hope it's kind of believable. Well, it's all very unbelievable, but from the way I've built it up since the beginning (possibly since the beginning of the series, not just this part), I hope that it doesn't seem strange that Aya would be taking this path. It's neat, though. Imagining what her flirtation with the dark side would be like.
Estrea, I think you're right. Things are going to get good once Shiba-chan gets back. Hahaha.
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Chapter 13
Lunchtime comes and goes as I wander through the streets. For four hours I walk around with no point and too many bad thoughts, torn between being sad and being angry.
The minute after I get home, Cho calls me and informs me that I can go down to the morgue and make whatever arrangements I want because he has spoken with Miki's mother. He has the audacity to sound annoyed. I almost tear into him, but I let it go. Let the imbeciles remain imbeciles.
Caring about nothing, I make my way back to that horrid, cold place to take care of the paperwork. I'm just barely polite to the people working there. I don't know what I'm doing, so I have to let them tell me what to do. I turn into a nervous wreck because it's all so complicated. There's no need for it to be. I just want to send her to her hometown. Why can't it be like buying a train ticket?
I get out of there feeling frustrated, as if I've accomplished nothing. I didn't even get to see her.
I go home in a daze after calling Miki's mother to apologise and inform her that everything has been taken care of. She thanks me and tells me she'll call me later with details about the funeral. She chokes up when she says that word.
Funeral.
I simply block it out. If I can't hear it, it doesn't exist, right?
It's three o'clock by the time I get home. Shibata should be landing soon. Fifteen minutes later, my phone rings. I've received mail.
In line at customs. Will call as soon as I'm home.
I send her back an e-mail.
Welcome back.
It seems full of sarcasm and bitterness. As if I'm saying "welcome home, Shiba-chan, to our lovely country, my hell on Earth, my nightmare."
I sit and re-read Miki's journal over and over again until the phone rings again at four-thirty.
It's Tsuyoshi. I don't have to ask him a thing because he launches right into it after I pick up.
"Everything went fine. They didn't ask about the second phone call even though I'm sure they pulled the record and saw your number. They didn't ask about the 'prints either. They only asked if I usually went into Fujimoto-san's office. I said I sometimes went in to clean up her desk."
I sigh. That's good news.
"So I think we're safe," he concludes. He sounds thrilled. Excited.
"This isn't a game," I snap at him out of the blue. "If you think this is fun, I refuse to have anything to do with you."
I regret speaking to him so harshly, but he has to know that this is serious. This is about a life that has been taken. A life that was important to me, and one that I will never forget.
"I-I'm sorry..." he apologises weakly, "I didn't mean that."
I rein my anger in. I'm channelling it at the wrong person.
"Sorry. I'm tired."
I don't think I sound that sorry, but Tsuyoshi cuts in and apologises some more and says I shouldn't be the one to feel bad. We end our conversation on an awkward note and I go back to my thoughts.
I sit and contemplate what to do. Where to go from here. Once this is all over - once the killer is caught - what am I supposed to do? I have no job, and any desire to find one has left me completely. I have a gaping hole in my heart that can't be filled in by anything. Not my family, not a million friends like Shiba-chan, not a drug. I'm lost.
It's my fault, though. It's entirely my fault for living in such a happy and carefree way. Before all of this, I had never thought that anything bad could happen to me or the ones I loved. I had always taken my safety for granted, and I had never stopped to think about what I would do if I were faced with some sort of danger or tragedy. I let myself get close to Miki and I somehow let her make me like her. I gave in to her charms and without even being sure why, I couldn't let go.
And now I sit here, broken-hearted because I bothered to care. Half a person because I gave away part of myself. Maybe it would have all been better if I had never met her. Then I wouldn't feel like I was paralysed and being pecked at bit by bit by a hungry raven.
That's selfish. You know what you are? Selfish and idiotic, I tell myself.
I'm swimming in my pain like a spoiled child. The ultimate injustice has been committed. It's not time to think about myself. It's time to think about her. This crime against her must be uncovered, her killer brought to justice. All her memories should serve as reminders of just how damned lucky I am to have met her at all. I shouldn't be sitting here saying, "oh, boo hoo, me. Look at my pain." This is about something bigger.
But even though I tell myself that, I still can't stop hurting and feeling sorry for myself.
Time passes slowly as I struggle with this problem. I pick up one of Miki's books and flip through it, looking at the bright pictures and the bold captions. It's a travel guidebook for East Asia. On the shelf there are seven or eight more books, all guidebooks for different regions of the world.
So much for taking another overseas trip together. I sigh and imagine what it would have been like.
At six-thirty, my phone rings. I check my mail and bolt out of the room.
Shiba-chan's back.
I throw on a jacket, gather whatever I need to show her, and leave my apartment, mailing her back as I rush out the door.
~
PIIIIN PONNNN
I stand outside Shibata’s apartment, unable to be still.
Five seconds later, the door opens.
"Come in," Shibata says when she sees me.
I manage a thankful nod and step inside. Beyond her, I can her suitcase on the floor. It's open and half empty already. She's in the middle of unpacking.
"Have a seat," she says once I've taken off my shoes.
I sit on her couch, clutching my bag in my hands.
"Want something to drink?"
I shake my head once.
Shibata stands there watching me. I find myself unable to speak. If I talk to her about it in person, it's going to be real and final. If I keep my silence, I can pretend Miki's still alive and it's all just a bad dream.
"Want to tell me what you've been up to?"
I move shakily and pull the journal out of my bag, holding it up to her. She walks over and takes it from me. She opens it up to the first page with writing on it and then looks right back at me.
"What is this?"
"That's Miki's journal. It proves that whoever killed her... Uh, she knew him."
Shibata looks at me, uncomprehending.
"Aya-chan, I know you don't want to talk about it, but I need to know what you've been up to the past two days. What have you found out?"
Slowly, I start to explain exactly what has been going on, leaving out no detail. I talk about lying to Sugiura because of his unspoken accusation, Tsuyoshi helping me out, calling Miki's mother, seeing the body, and the investigation at U-Con. I turn into a blubbering mess at some point, and Shibata comes to sit down beside me, putting an arm around my shoulders as I cry into her shoulder. The tears pour out of me and her shirt becomes damp.
"...so all I have to go on in this journal. And- and that café that we go to together."
I lift my head up to look at her. She's deep in thought, a frown of concentration on her face. I can see what she's thinking. For the first time in my life, I think, I can read her like a book. I can see it all in her eyes - her shock, her sadness, her anger, her defensiveness...
"I'm sorry I wasn't here when it happened," she says.
Those words trigger a landslide in me and I start to bawl.
"I can't do this," I cry, leaning back against the couch and covering my face. I find it hard to breathe, gasping in air only to expel it as wild sobs.
"Yes, you can. I'm going to help you. We'll find out- find out something. Don't lose hope."
But I can tell from her voice that she's unsure. 'What can we do?' it asks silently. 'What can we figure out that the police can't?'
The hum of the refrigerator mixed with my crying is the only sound we hear for some time.
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I have no words, except that I shall wait patiently for the next chapter.
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shiba-chan is back!
things will get better right?
still..i feel like crying thinking of dead miki =(
waiting for the next chapter! =D
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I hope that they don't get seriously injured while investigating.
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Yay Shiba-chan! Now we got two sleuthing babes!
For some reason, I just thought of a really twisted theory on what happened, and I hope to GOD that I'm wrong. Dunno if someone else has already put forth this theory, I'm too lazy to go and check.
...
Earlier on in the story Aya said that Tsuyoshi thought of Miki as an older sister, with Aya being the older-sister's friend he has a crush on...see where I'm going with this?
What if Tsuyoshi found out that Miki and Aya were..."more" than just best friends? That would mean that he'd have no chance with Aya because Miki would be in his way. Often in crime/mystery dramas, the culprit ends up being someone who's totally "normal" on the outside, but just with that secret, INTENSE obssession on the inside. Question now is, does Tsuysoshi have this type of obssession for Aya? If so, would he go so far as to eliminate Miki to "get to her"? We only have his word, after all, about the time that Miki (and later on, himself) left work on the day she died. Stranger things have been seen/done.
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Aya's so miserable... :( Hopefully now that Shiba's joined Aya they can make some headway into finding out the murderer(s).
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The only things I can think of to say start with 'I hope...' and 'I wish...' And also 'I bow down to your incredible mastery of words and emotions.' But that last one seems a little inappropriate to post here.
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Poor Aya is such a mess, but she seems very passionate about this whole incident. The way you have written her inner conflictions (pitying herself as much as pitying Miki) are realistic. It's easy to feel weak, yet strong because of love.
Earlier on in the story Aya said that Tsuyoshi thought of Miki as an older sister, with Aya being the older-sister's friend he has a crush on...see where I'm going with this?
What if Tsuyoshi found out that Miki and Aya were..."more" than just best friends? That would mean that he'd have no chance with Aya because Miki would be in his way. Often in crime/mystery dramas, the culprit ends up being someone who's totally "normal" on the outside, but just with that secret, INTENSE obssession on the inside. Question now is, does Tsuysoshi have this type of obssession for Aya? If so, would he go so far as to eliminate Miki to "get to her"? We only have his word, after all, about the time that Miki (and later on, himself) left work on the day she died. Stranger things have been seen/done.
I have to agree that this makes perfect sense. Tsuyoshi is a very fishy character, and I began to wonder about him as well, but now that you bring up the obsession thing, it raises my suspicion even higher.
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I'm new here and I really love your story! So much detailed emotions... . .. . it's very sad still to know that miki's gone...but I'm looking forward to the rest of your story. glad that shiba-chan is back! I can feel the new dynamics coming~
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Ten chapters of fluff!? A lot of people will be trying to figure this out :D It makes my head dizzy just thinking about it x_x.
I think JFC's theory sounds plausible. But what would Tsuyoshi have told Miki that completely freaked her out? ??? If I remember right, Miki's journal mentioned it was a "they", but of course Tsuyoshi could have associates. I can't really think of a reason why Tsuyoshi would threaten to kill someone he likes either (assuming the "her" in Miki's journal was Aya). His obsession is to THAT level!? (the "IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU, NO ONE CAN!" level :D)
Blah, even more questions @_@
Anyways, yay for Shiba-chan coming back finally, that's one more brain to figure out the murderer!
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Thanks for the support, of course, I could just be pulling crap out of my ass again. ;D
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Hahaha, good work, JFC and Co. I can't give away whether you're right or not, so all I'll say is "maybe, maybe not."
(rndmnwierd, when I first read your comment, my eyes immediately caught the "that last one seems a little inappropriate to post here" part first, and I thought "oh, there I've gone and offended someone somehow." Hahaha. Anyhow, thank you.)
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Ahh! You're so fast at updating this story!
I have this like small trace of hope that Miki's still alive and it's some weird dream... because this story makes me feel depressed... almost like when I watched 1 litre of tears :(
Anyway, thanks for the new chapter!
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*Mikan creeps outta lurkers shadows*
Its damn sad! and its Damn good! God DAMN IT!
Im gonna hold you too your promise of a next story full of puppies and happiness...and there better be lots og cute GAM moments, kisses in the rain and long sleepless nights...
muahahha
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Hi, Mikan. Nice to see you again. Well, we'll see about those ten chapters of happy, fluffy AM. ;)
This next chapter took me far too long to finish. I spent the entire day on it. I don't understand why, but I kept getting distracted even though I had plenty of ideas.
Chapter 14
I end up staying the night at Shibata's camped out on her floor beside her bed.
After I finish crying, we get ready for bed because she's exhausted. She hasn't slept since she bought her plane ticket to come back. We lie down in her room and talk. I somehow find the power to speak about something other than the tragedy. I tell her about the days before Miki's death and what we did, but when I playfully scold Miki in absentia for being silly and childish, I feel an instant pang in my heart that reminds me to cherish every single moment, annoying or not, because there will be no more new ones made from now on. Forever.
We talk a bit about what to do with my investigation. At first Shibata is a little reluctant. She tells me it's neither very smart nor safe to go against the police, but she quickly descends from that moral high ground and tells me she'll help me out. Our next move, we agree, is to go to the Terrace Café and ask the owner about Miki. The owner knows my face since Miki and I have been going to that café for quite a while now. She's a mysterious woman, the owner, but she seems like the type who can keep quiet and offer a bit of assistance from the shadows. I'm sure she likes me and Miki since we patronise her shop loyally.
Shibata yawns all through our talk, but not once does her voice or mood give away how desperately she must want to fall asleep. She stays attentive to what I have to say until I fall asleep first, and that's just one of the countless things that shows what a wonderful and selfless person Shibata is.
The next morning I wake up feeling much more rested. It still hurts, of course.
I look up and see that Shibata's already out of bed. The poor girl's internal clock is still haywire.
I hear soft sounds coming from outside the bedroom, and when I open the door, the strong smell of coffee attacks my senses.
"Good morning," Shibata greets me.
She's standing in the living room, a cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. She's just about to sit down. She's already dressed for the day, making me feel like a late-rising sloth.
"Good morning," I reply, looking up at the clock on the shelf beside her. It's only half past seven.
"Want some coffee?" she asks me, starting to get up.
I wave a hand no, but my stomach growls. It occurs to me that I can't remember the last time I had a meal.
"But could I have something to eat?" I ask. I don't like to ask, but it's now about my third day with no meal. I'm beyond manners.
"Of course," she says, getting up to prepare something for me. I sulk behind her guiltily.
"So, are we going to that café today?" she asks out of the blue.
My jaw hardens. That's right. We're on a mission.
"Yes. As soon as it opens."
Shibata finds me something to eat, and I'm surprised that I'm able to hold food down in my stomach. The sick feeling inside me recognises that my body needs nutrition in order to continue. Although the truth is that I feel my anger could fuel me for centuries without food and water.
We discuss what to ask the owner of the café. Shibata is indeed clever. I would have gone in there and asked questions recklessly. She takes a more controlled approach. It's as if all my organisation skills and all my common sense have ceased to exist. She has to tell me things that, three days ago, I would have been telling Miki to keep in mind.
I ask her to tell me about Spain to distract me. She talks about the things she was able to do in her short time there, how she met the family she stayed with, and other interesting facts that I try to focus on. But at the back of my mind, I can only think about myself and about Miki.
We could have gone to Spain. We could have had fun there.
In the middle of relating a story about her plane ride home, my cell phone rings. I pick it up and am not happy to hear Sugiura's voice coming from the receiver.
"What is it?" I ask rudely.
"Ah, I'm sorry to bother you, but as you know, we have searched through Fujimoto-san's apartment and her workplace," he says.
Congratulations, I think bitterly.
"Good," I say flatly.
"And I just want to apologise for, um, the second interview I had with you."
I frown. This seems like a good thing, but is it really?
"Oh?"
Sugiura clears his throat almost nervously.
"I made an error," he admits. "I even implied that you might have had ill intentions. But upon further review of the case details and of the victim's personal effects, I find I misjudged you hastily."
"Huh?" I stammer, a strange feeling starting to rise up in me.
"We found several letters in her apartment, including a will-like note in the event that anything unspeakable ever happened to her. It's clear that my suspicion of you and your fingerprints being all over her apartment was spawned because I was not aware of all of the facts."
Oh brother. This is uncomfortable.
"Oh..." I mumble into the mouthpiece.
Now I know what he's talking about. He's somehow pieced together just how close Miki and I are. Were. And now he's changing his mind about previous suspicions. I would much rather he remained clueless, but if it clears my name, I guess I have to allow it.
"Two orders of business," he sets out in a completely different, strong tone. "First, we have removed any mention of your name in the official press release that we gave out earlier this morning."
Press release? Of course. The murder of a fairly high-profile singer doesn't go unnoticed. I'm sure people have been trying to reach her for the past two days and have begun to wonder. Now the world will know. But I'm curious what it would have said with my name included. And even more curious as to what made them take my name out of it. They could have easily and (truthfully) left in my name, saying I was the one to identify her- her body.
"Second, while we are still conducting our investigation at Fujimoto-san's apartment, I deemed it appropriate that you be allowed to come by and pick up several things that I believe you should have."
Great. Just great.
I suck in a breath and put all my confidence into my voice.
"Thank you, Sugiura-san. That would be nice."
But don't think this means I'm going to give you the journal, I think.
Not that he knows about it.
"Please ring before you come back down to the department so that we're ready to receive you."
"Could I head down there now?" I ask.
He says that it's fine and actually more convenient if I go now. I tell him I'll be there in an hour and a half, and I hang up, not sure what to feel. Relief? Embarrassment? Nothing?
I explain to Shibata what the conversation was about, and she asks if I want her to come with me.
"No, it's all right. I'll go alone. No use showing your face down there."
The less the police know about my friends, the better.
I finish eating, get ready quickly, and leave, thanking Shibata for letting me stay over and telling her I'll call as soon as I'm finished at the police department. We'll head to the café together later.
~
When I arrive at the department, the receptionist tells me I can go ahead to Sugiura's office. I walk there slowly, wondering what to say to him. I don't want to have to explain myself. A part of me is worried that he's going to demand why I didn't tell him the whole truth before. But why should I have to? He's the one who should be bowing down and apologising to me. I'm the one who has lost a loved one. I'm the one who was shocked with the news. I was the one who had to tell Miki's mother and Tsuyoshi, and Shibata.
I knock at the door.
"Come in!"
I walk in, shutting the door quietly and avoiding eye contact.
"Matsuura-san, thank you for coming down this morning," Sugiura says, standing up quickly from his chair.
His entire attitude has changed. His voice is back to the softer, kind one he used when he first met me. His posture is even less intimidating than when I last saw him.
"I have some things that, well, they belong to you now. Here you go," he says, picking up a paper shopping bag from his desk and handing it to me.
I don't know what to say. I've left tonnes of things at Miki's apartment over the past five years. The detectives have no way of knowing what's mine and what's hers. I don't even know anymore. It's not like I label all my clothing. I don't write my name on the DVDs that I keep by her television set and force her to watch. Although I guess to most people, the existence of two toothbrushes and a couple of hairbrushes in the bathroom would instantly trigger the assumption that two people live there, not just one.
I accept the bag with thankfulness.
"We've included a copy of the, ah, will-like note. We've had to keep the real one for legal reasons."
I nod vacantly.
When did Miki write something like that? More importantly, why would she have written something like that?
"I'm very sorry about all of this," he continues, becoming aware that I'm not going to be very talkative. "We're still working hard to investigate. I have to tell you the truth, though. We have very few leads. We're doing our best to involve as many people as possible, but I'm afraid with high-profile individuals, it becomes very tricky. The people we need to talk to don't speak up as much, and conversely, too many people who have nothing to do with it want to say something. It's very tricky to sort through all of the..."
I tune out as he rambles on. This man needs a lesson in sensitivity and policemanship (if such a word exists). This is not what I want to be hearing at the moment, and I question whether he should be telling me all of this anyway. Aren't there rules about having to keep things quiet and classified? Maybe I've watched too many movies.
Once he's finished speaking, he looks at me expectantly and I tune back in.
"I beg your pardon?" I ask quickly, trying to hide my clueless state from him.
"I asked if you were all right."
At least he bothers to ask.
"I'm a little overwhelmed," I say honestly.
He nods sympathetically. As if he can understand my pain.
He cannot possibly.
"We'll keep you updated on our progress. Don't lose hope," he says to me.
I say goodbye to him and I leave, holding the handle of the bag tightly in the sweaty palm of my hand.
On the train, I pull out my phone and e-mail Shibata.
Sorry, but I have to stay at home for a bit. I'll get in touch later.
I need to see what's in this bag before I can go anywhere.
Shibata e-mails me back and tells me to take my time.
I sigh and rest my head back, closing my eyes, willing the train to go faster, wondering what's in the bag, and begging for Miki to be alive again.
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I understand how it feels like to be distracted...I get distracted all the time, which is why Chapter 15 of All Aboard is still a work in progress lol. XD
Sigh, my brains don't feel like working enough to write a wonderfully insightful comment. I'll just sit back with my pillow and await developments while everyone else speculates, if you don't mind. XD
Write more, quickly! XD
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She hasn't checked the bag? Strange girl...
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bag? will-like note? can't wait...i really want to know what miki left behind! i like how you're building aya back up with shibata and now the bag. it's time for aya to get out of the slums! hehehe~
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I think that note maybe written by the killer and used to throw the cops off the trail.
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oh, so it's THAT terrace cafe with THAT owner, man I'm slow these days
and the Mystery Bag contains... *drumroll*
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Wow, Miki wrote a will. I wonder if it was recent, persumably due to the fact that she knew she was in danger or if she wrote it before as an emergency sort of thing. Also, Aya's really stubborn. If I were in her situation, I would try to work with the police, but I notice now that she thinks of her case as a bit of a delicacy, specifically because of her relationship with Miki.
Shibata and Aya seem to make a good team: one with smarts and the other with passion. It's like a rookie and a senior. xD
@JFC: Maybe you are pulling it out of your ass, but it's a wonderful theory. Also, I need someone to figure out these chapters, because OTN1 promised fluff. :P (I was really kidding about that . . .)
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1st thing I have to say is...HOLY SHIT OTN1 CHANGED HIS AVATAR!!!
Ok, I'm good. :)
Wow, Shiba-chan really is a good friend. :) I'm surprised the jet lag hasn't knocked her out.
I find it somewhat hard to believe in Sugiura's sudden change of attitude. It's just seems a little too convenient. The conspiracy theorist in me says that he's still suspicious of Aya, and that he's acting the way he is in hopes that she'll let her guard down, allowing him to discover something critical about Miki. Hell, for all we know, he still suspects Aya killed Miki. As for the bag of Aya's stuff from Miki's, it could be a genuine gesture on his part or it could be some sort of bait for his plot to get some dirt from Aya.
go to the Terrace Café and ask the owner about Miki. The owner knows my face since Miki and I have been going to that café for quite a while now. She's a mysterious woman, the owner
Dare I say...Tsuyoshi's mom? If so, she may have been aware of his attraction to Aya. She also probably could/would have figured out how close Miki and Aya really were. Being a good mom (assuming that she IS his mom), she probably would have tried to get Tsuyoshi to forget about Aya. Tsuyoshi would then have insistently questioned her as to why she would say that, at which point she would/could have told him "the truth", causing him to snap and THUS...instant secret creepy-stalker dude.
Again remember, it may make sense, but it's still probably just outta my ass. :P
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Yeah, Nice avatar dude.
I wanna know whats in the freaking bag and I wanna know who killed Miki...moreover, how she died. If its suicide then I must say its interesting.
Ive moved again btw! PM me, lets catch up. I might be heading north for the summer...
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What's in the bag, I wonder? What will the two sleuths find at the cafe, I wonder? What did Aya have for breakfast, I wonder? Brain food, hopefully, seems like she'll need it.
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JFC.. wow. The phrase "holy crap" comes to mind. Remember that this isn't Alias. This is just me. I'm not good with convoluted conspiracies. :D I'm going to have to write a two-hundred page "alternate version" to use your ideas.
My avatar is way to happy for this story. Hahaha.
Aya is a strange girl, but there is a simple reason why she didn't check the bag. Don't worry!
The first half of the next chapter is written, but the second half isn't. That means no new chapter tonight, which maybe kind of breaks some sort of roll I was on. Hahaha.
edited to add this:
I am a liar. I couldn't turn off my computer until I wrote the chapter. I am now in the proofreading stages, so I will be posting it soon (unless I get very distracted). Damn this inspiration, or at least this hardcore "got to do it now" feeling, that I get at inconvenient hours.
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Chapter 15
I get home and sit on the couch to open the bag that I've wanted to tear open ever since it was shown to me. Now that I'm in the safety and comfort of my living room, I can let go and react in whatever way I want to the contents, shielded from the prying eyes of the world by four walls and a roof.
I look in and see a miscellany of objects that confuses me. They aren't mine at all. They're either Miki's, or they're things I've never seen before. I pull them out one-by-one and line them up on the space beside me.
First there's a pair of socks. They're black and they're wrapped in plastic. The price tag is still on the wrapper - ninety-nine yen.
Second, there's a red album. I open it up and see that Miki has pasted pictures and written or drawn things around them. She's even pasted in other pieces of papers - ticket stubs, receipts, and so on. It's a homemade scrapbook that I never knew she had made.
Third, there's a stuffed toy animal. It's an iguana that I thought she had gotten rid of almost two years ago. It has small, googly eyes and a little forked tongue that's poking out of its mouth. She used to keep it beside her pillow, but I wasn't a fan of it. I would often take it and slip it between the head of the bed and the wall so that I wouldn't have to look at it. I thought she'd given it away or thrown it out because of my aversion to it.
Fourth, there are some papers that are stapled together. They look like photocopies, so I assume this is the "will-like note" that Sugiura mentioned. It's all in Miki's handwriting and looks nothing like a legal document.
Fifth, there's one of those cheap notebooks that you can buy at the hundred yen store. The front is a chequered pattern of blue and pink. In the corner is written, "Please read this, Aya."
Finally, flat against the bottom of the bag is a rectangular piece of paper. I pick it out, almost having missed it. I recognise the name right away. It's a ticket from a Matsuda Seiko concert. Not just any of her concerts. The one where Miki and I met.
I look at this unexpected and seemingly nonsensical treasure trove of items and I decide to start with the most official-looking papers.
I pick up the photocopies and begin to read.
May 22nd, 2009.
To whom it may concern,
This is my will. I have not made any formal document because I refuse to think about that until I am much, much older. I've written out this note in the event that something unexpected happens to me and I die before I can say any last words. There are some things in my life that mean something to me, and I want the important people I know to have them.
As for all of my physical belongings, such as clothes, books, and other items, I think it's appropriate that they be given to my friends and family. I want to give the duty of deciding who gets what to Matsuura Aya, since I trust her judgement. I don't want to make things difficult by naming a dozen different people, so I have chosen one person to be my final voice on this earth.
I would like any money in my bank account to be sent to my parents. I have attached their names and address on a separate piece of paper. Any paycheque owed to me should also go to them.
Finally, to Matsuura, I would like to ask that a certain bag be given to her. I keep it at work. It's in my locker in my dressing room at the main studio. I have attached an address on another separate piece of paper.
I don't know how to write a will, but I hope that even something this simple will make it easier to sort out my affairs if I ever do die suddenly.
That is all.
Fujimoto Miki
I flip to the separate papers that are stapled to this plain note. One has her parents' names and their address in Hokkaido written on it. The other has another note.
Since I have switched workplaces, I now keep the bag in the bottom drawer of my desk. It's locked, but there should be a key for it nearby.
And then she's written the address of U-Con records.
Miki had written a will all this time ago and I had never known. She'd never mentioned it to me. She'd named me as someone whose judgement she trusted, her last voice on earth. Me.
My mind heavy with thought, I decide the notebook is the next place to check.
I take it in my hands carefully and open it up. The first page is blank, just like the first page of her journal. It's one of her peculiar "things." The second page is where her writing starts. It's undated.
Hi, Aya-chan.
I know this is really weird of me to do, but I was sitting here thinking, and I started to worry that if anything ever happened to me and I died suddenly, I wouldn't be able to give you some things that I'd want you to have. I wouldn't be able to say some last words to you. The thought of just leaving you hurts me too much, and I start to cry if I think about it excessively. That's why I'm writing this.
If you're reading this, then I'm either dead or in some deep coma that I'm not expected to wake up from. Either way, I can't talk to you, and you can't talk to me. Are you sad? I am. Or I would be if I could feel sad in death or a coma. I don't want you to be sad, though. I want you to be happy that you're alive. I don't want you to worry about me. We've had good times together, and every day is like an adventure because of you.
We make a good team, I think, but if we have to part ways, then at least we've learned from each other. Well, I think I've learned a lot more from you than you could ever learn from me. I wasn't really grown up when I met you. Maybe I tried to be, maybe I looked like I was, but I really wasn't. I know you know that. You weren't really that mature either, but you've always had this sense around you that makes people look at you and go "cute... and clever!" Or at least that's what I've always thought. Maybe other people look at you differently, but that's how I look at you. We started to grow up together, and I think we've come a long way since we were silly teenagers. Some parts of us have hardened up, some have softened up. I think I kind of got really hard and then you softened me again because you reminded me about how good life is when there are so many things worth living for.
Don't cry!
Maybe I'm being silly to expect you to be crying over me - sounds a little egotistical - but I think I know you well enough to be able to make that assumption. I mean, I'd totally cry over you if you wrote something like this and I was reading it. Well, okay, the truth is that I'd cry if you broke a nail. I love you that much, you know?
Before I say anything else, I just want to quickly explain why I've collected some of these things and given them to you, although I'm sure you can figure out some of them.
The concert ticket is obvious. We first met there, right? Well, I've cherished you from the moment I met you, and that old ticket is proof! I mean, not in a creepy or anything. You know that. But like I already told you, when I met you, I liked you right away. I thought, "we could be best friends one day," and I was right. I kept that ticket. Actually, I lost track of it for a while, but I re-found it again recently. I knew it had to be in my room somewhere. I would never throw something like that out. I want you to have it. That ticket is more than just a ticket to a Seiko-san concert. That ticket was a ticket to your heart.
(If I'm in a coma, please come to the hospital and pull the plug and let me go in peace because I can't believe I said something so corny.)
The socks. Do you remember your first birthday present to me? Probably not, because I think you bought it at the hundred yen store two minutes before you saw me. So here you go. The cheapest pair of socks I could find for you. It's my payback.
Besides Mr. Monkey, this other little guy is my favourite of my stuffed toy animals. I keep him at work nowadays. I know you don't really like him that much, but he's cute and important to me. Please take care of him.
I made that album for you. It's not just pictures of you and me, so don't get all confused when suddenly you realise I have other friends (hah!). I've written what I think under the pictures. The album is a collection of a bunch of my good memories from the past few years. I've had lots of fun times at work, during free time, out with friends, and, of course, with you. That album is like a slice of my mind. Please keep it for me. If I'm not around to remember it, you can for me.
Then this notebook. These are just my ramblings. Feel free to ignore me. I know you like to pretend to.
There aren't many things that I have left to say to you. You know how I think already. I think the biggest thing I want to say is "thank you."
Thank you thank you THANK YOU!
From the bottom of my heart. Thank you for looking out for me, for understanding me, and for being my big sister even though I'm older than you.
And with that, imagine I've just given you a big, slobbery kiss on your cheek, 'cause you hate when I do that.
I want you to think of me and laugh. I want you to smile and do that thing you always do. That "oh, Miki, why do I even bother trying to train you" kind of look as if I'm a dog that you're just about to give up on. If you think of that, then it'll surely be easier not to cry.
Lastly, whatever has happened to me, I don't want you to blame yourself. You've always been so good to me, even when you're mean to me (hah, I get the last word on that), so I know that you'd never hurt me or let me get hurt on purpose. Whatever happened to me was out of your control. Even if there was a tiny thing you "could have done," remember that life is about choices. We all make them. Sometimes we make good ones, and sometimes, unfortunately, we make bad ones. I have absolute, one hundred per cent faith in all of your decisions. It doesn't matter if they're good or not because I know they're backed up by your heart, which is nothing but good.
Goodbye, Aya. I love you veeeeery very very much!
(You know, sometimes it's embarrassing to say that, but it's even more embarrassing to write it out like that. God, I hope I never die unexpectedly just so that you never read this.)
-Miki
I've never thought that giggling insanely and sobbing could be done simultaneously. The unique thing about Miki is that she's always been able to make me feel all these strange, new emotions that I didn't know were possible, and the gigglesob, I have just discovered, is the strangest of them yet.
I read the letter and I laugh out loud, followed immediately by bursting into tears, followed by giggling that annoys me because I'm supposed to be sad, followed by more tears that won't stop falling.
This surprise package has been the only real breath of fresh air I've had in the past few days, but it has also reminded me of the extent of my loss.
For once, I decide not to think about it too deeply. I take my time, and for the next while, I flip through the scrapbook of pictures and read the notebook over and over again. The pages are part of Miki, and now in my possession, they whisper her thoughts to me.
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Oh I love Miki. The letter to Aya was just so Miki. Did that make sense?
I'm overwhelmed by a lot of emotions and thoughts, and I don't really know how to sort them out to post them here coherently, so I'll settle for telling you that this is awesome and I'm still waiting for more. XD
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I giggled at this chapter, but I also felt sad. It was so Miki-esque and yet, words escape me...
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When I read the first paragraph in this thread which said need to read Love x 2 first, I was avoiding this thread because I couldn't read it (no access to the perv) XD. But now that I can read Love x 2, I read all the chapters all day, to about 2 am in the morning XD.
One thing I first realized after reading all the fics you posted here (at least the ones I've found) XD, is that Aya handled Miki's death better than Miki handled Aya's death. Sure Aya is also angsty by the sudden death, but the way you write this fic makes her looks as she's good to hold her emotion and think smartly even when she's in despair. If the roles are switched, the one who was misteriously killed is Aya and the living one is Miki, Miki will sure be the type who scream everything at the police and ready to bomb the whole Japan to make sure Aya's killer is dead XD.
Ahh you wrote the few first chapters so happy (there's even the narcisstic Aya!), and I just knew that there will be something wrong, there's no OTN without rollercoaster story :D! But how could Miki leave Aya like that... Her death is more painful than Aya's death in your latest fanfic before this ;_;.
For a moment when I read about Aya sleeping with Shibata my pervy mind was working... XD Hey, if its for Aya's happiness, then Miki won't mind if Aya find a new love right? And most of us won't mind too :3 *kicks self*
I'm so guessing that the 19-year-old boy who has a crush on Aya is not that innocent, totally, no, especially when he appeared that much in the fanfic :D. Maybe he is the one who killed Miki? Because he secretly knows about the relationship and he still wants Aya...
That Sugiura-police, he doesn't seem to be that innocent either... But I hope he won't be nosey and tell everything he knows about the relationship to the media...
Oh no... now all the characters are possible to be Miki's killer in my head O_O. Or maybe they all were plotting to kill Miki?! So the killer isn't only one person?! Aya! You shouldn't trust them easily! ;_;
Hoping that the whole chapters about Miki's death is actually a nightmare Aya is having and she's going to wake up pervy with Miki beside her :heart:. *gets kicked*
Your fanfics made me cry, this one too ;_;. You have to promise me that you'll write a fluffy fanfic after you finish this fic ;_;. (and sorry if my comment is too long XD)
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Damnit. Miki's letter made me really really sad. Like Estrea said, it's just so Miki -- from her embarrassment to her humor to the confessions, like how she thinks of Aya and ... ah.. :'(
... And just for the freaken hell of it, since no one else suggested it and I DO want those 10 chaps of fluff... what if Miki killed Miki? O_o Or Aya killed Miki? Is that going too far? yes it probably is, but who else could it be? Tsuyoshi seems like the unsuspecting guy that everyone would -want- to suspect, but that's almost too expected in itself (going in circles now). *sigh*
*bashes head against desk*
Waiting to read more :heart:
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JFC.. wow. The phrase "holy crap" comes to mind. Remember that this isn't Alias. This is just me. I'm not good with convoluted conspiracies. :D I'm going to have to write a two-hundred page "alternate version" to use your ideas.
Told ya dude...outta my ass. ;D
I get home and sit on the couch to open the bag that I've wanted to tear open ever since it was shown to me. Now that I'm in the safety and comfort of my living room, I can let go and react in whatever way I want to the contents, shielded from the prying eyes of the world by four walls and a roof.
That makes sense. Considering how emotional these past few days have been for her, it's a smart move. Plus, it's no one else's business anyways but her own.
First there's a pair of socks. They're black and they're wrapped in plastic. The price tag is still on the wrapper - ninety-nine yen.
Miki's inside joke?
Second, there's a red album. I open it up and see that Miki has pasted pictures and written or drawn things around them. She's even pasted in other pieces of papers - ticket stubs, receipts, and so on. It's a homemade scrapbook that I never knew she had made.
...
Finally, flat against the bottom of the bag is a rectangular piece of paper. I pick it out, almost having missed it. I recognise the name right away. It's a ticket from a Matsuda Seiko concert. Not just any of her concerts. The one where Miki and I met.
Despite her "tough" image...Miki's a sentimental girl. :)
To whom it may concern,
This is my will. I have not made any formal document because I refuse to think about that until I am much, much older. I've written out this note in the event that something unexpected happens to me and I die before I can say any last words. There are some things in my life that mean something to me, and I want the important people I know to have them.
...
Miki had written a will all this time ago and I had never known. She'd never mentioned it to me.
As cryptic as it may be to even consider having something at this age, it does make sense considering how practical Miki is. I mean, one wouldn't expect to need a will at such a young age, but...heaven forbid, you just never know sometimes.
She'd named me as someone whose judgement she trusted, her last voice on earth. Me.
That says something about how deeply and profoundly Miki felt for Aya. She may not have always said it, but she definitely felt it.
If you're reading this, then I'm either dead or in some deep coma that I'm not expected to wake up from. Either way, I can't talk to you, and you can't talk to me. Are you sad? I am.
Fuck, as soon as I got hear I knew it was going to be hard reading this. (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c340/J-F-C/cry.gif)
That ticket was a ticket to your heart.
(If I'm in a coma, please come to the hospital and pull the plug and let me go in peace because I can't believe I said something so corny.)
*gigglesob*
The socks. Do you remember your first birthday present to me? Probably not, because I think you bought it at the hundred yen store two minutes before you saw me. So here you go. The cheapest pair of socks I could find for you. It's my payback.
I knew it must've been some inside joke. All of a sudden I'm reminded of the H!M ep where Aya was on trial and Miki accused her of always forgetting her birthday and Aya's attempted defence was so lame...(http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c340/J-F-C/giggle.gif)
...
*gigglesob*
imagine I've just given you a big, slobbery kiss on your cheek, 'cause you hate when I do that.
Absolutely quintessential Miki.
...
*gigglesob*
Lastly, whatever has happened to me, I don't want you to blame yourself. You've always been so good to me, even when you're mean to me (hah, I get the last word on that), so I know that you'd never hurt me or let me get hurt on purpose. Whatever happened to me was out of your control. Even if there was a tiny thing you "could have done," remember that life is about choices. We all make them. Sometimes we make good ones, and sometimes, unfortunately, we make bad ones. I have absolute, one hundred per cent faith in all of your decisions. It doesn't matter if they're good or not because I know they're backed up by your heart, which is nothing but good.
Damn, Miki and Aya really are/were totally in tune with how each other thought. It's like she could predict what Aya would do and how she'd feel/react should something like that happen to her.
*gigglesob*
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Holy crap... I don't think i've ever seen someone post chapters that fast before!
For some reason, the story doesn't feel as depressing anymore... I mean it sucks yeah, but it doesn't have that 'what's the meaning of living anymore' atmosphere. Anyway, keep up the good work! More (or some) sukeban Ayaya please!
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i love miki's note...filled with honesty and embarassment~ i'm sure aya's gonna have a good night's rest drowned in love once again.
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...You've rendered me speechless.
I agree with edhead999. It seems like it's not so hopeless anymore for Aya and Miki. :)
It...uh, wow. I can't find the right words, but this chapter just felt so REAL and plausible.
I also didn't know I could adore Miki any more than I already do. It kills me that Miki couldn't have confessed face-to-face to Aya, though she probably wouldn't were she alive, anyway...Just that she can't now. Hm.
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It may not be so hopeless for Aya anymore, but it certainly is for Miki. Can't get much more hopeless than being dead after all.
The extent of Miki's forethought is suprising, and regarding what she said about Aya, touching.
...And that was some mighty impressive ass pulling there JFC.
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It may not seem hopeless now for Aya because right now she has her "mission", but afterwards...
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Wow, Ren. Some people have done that before - read all my previous stuff suddenly in 1 or 2 nights. It's kind of crazy. Thank you. Shibata and Aya hooking up is about as likely in my stories as Shibata and Megu hooking up, which is 0% (as I think I mentioned somewhere). Hahaha. And don't worry, I enjoy reading long comments. Yours was just as entertaining as JFC's epic gigglesob-filled review comments, Amarghetta's questions about my mother tongue, Estrea's marriage proposals, and so on (hahaha! :D).
Some of you have pointed out the difference between Aya's reaction to Miki's death and Miki's reaction to Aya's death. This is good! I like to look at things like that.
For me, the murder mystery is secondary to the emotional journey. I think Yuuyami pointed out the "what path will Aya take?" question, which I think it very important (I can't find the reference for the comment. I think it was during the backup forum time).
As usual, let's all listen to coachie. That's a good point.
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Oh, I forgot to say a simple thank you for the nice comments about that chapter. I really enjoyed writing it, and I put a lot of effort into it. I'm glad that others were able to appreciate it.
Chapter 16
There are several moments when I lower what I'm reading and look out across my apartment while thinking. I think of my replies to some of her statements. I touch my cheek because the image I have in my mind of her kissing it is so vivid that it actually feels like it's wet.
Miki is more thoughtful than I ever imagined. To have worried herself into writing a final message just for me (and nobody else - not her parents, not any other friend) is proof of her love. I've never considered writing something of the sort. That just goes to highlight the differences in our personalities. Opposites attract, and I guess that can apply to us in some ways.
These thoughts of hers are pure. I assume they were written before she was ever threatened. She wasn't writing desperately against time. She took it easy and really thought it through.
She thanked me. She praised me. She loved me. I will never forget. Take my memories from me and I will still remember her. She is part of me. How can I forget myself?
After having my quiet, alone time, it's time to get back to the battlefield. Time to go to the café.
I call Shibata and have her meet me at the station closest to our destination. When we meet, she asks me how everything went. I explain in broad terms what was given to me. I mention the will and that Miki left some old things of hers in addition to a note, but I don't go into detail. It's humiliating enough that Sugiura has more than likely read the notebook. Miki's innermost thoughts and embarrassing admissions don't have to be broadcast to the world.
Shibata and I stop speaking for a while, both quietly preparing ourselves before we reach the entrance to the café.
"Just follow my lead," she says to me.
It's funny. I'm the one who frequents the place, not her.
We walk in. A wind chime at the door signals our arrival. A server who I've never seen before (new staff, I assume) welcomes us and lets us choose our table. We sit in a secluded corner and order hot tea. After it arrives, we sip for a bit and then we call the server over.
"Is the owner in by any chance?" Shibata asks.
The girl's eyes widen and she stammers that yes, the owner is here and that she'll go and get her right away. I think she's terrified that we're disgruntled customers who are going to complain about the service.
The owner arrives shortly. Her face is set in a calm expression, her hair half pulled back in her usual style. She's wearing a white apron over her business attire. She's obviously been manning the kitchen.
"What can I do for you?" she asks.
Shibata starts by introducing herself and asking if she has time to talk. The owner introduces herself as Ochiai Kiyomi. In all the years I've been here, I've never known her name until this moment. Astounding.
Ochiai says she has some free time since business is slow at the moment. She takes a seat and I introduce myself. With grace, she accepts my introduction as if she only knew my face before, not my name. I'm sure she already knows, though, because there used to be a poster of me on the vending machine just across from the shop. I have to face it. There aren't many people alive in Tokyo that don't know my name.
Shibata is about to start with the questions, but I just can't be silent. I need to talk to the owner - no, she has a name now. Ochiai. I need to talk to Ochiai honestly because she has the face of someone who can be trusted. I cut Shibata off in mid sentence.
"Ochiai-san, please, I need your help," I plead. Her head turns to me immediately, and she's all ears for what I have to say. I hear Shibata take a breath in, but she doesn't stop me. "You know I'm a frequent customer here, and I usually come with another girl, Fujimoto, right?"
She nods, and I wonder for a moment if I sound like some spoiled customer who's about to ask if she can start a tab so that she doesn't have to pay every time. Or something like that.
"Something really bad..." I take a deep breath, "really bad has happened. There's been a murder, and she's been, um... she's..." I trail off because I can't say it. My voice box won't let me utter those words.
Ochiai gets the point, though. She nods once very slowly.
"In a journal that she kept, she mentioned coming here once for a meeting. It was in September, and it took place either on the third or the fourth. I think finding out about that meeting will help a lot. Do you remember?"
Ochiai breathes a few times as she looks pensive, her eyes unfocused, staring at the nothingness in front of her.
"I admit that I don't remember that specific date, but it sounds like the right timeframe for when it started," she says in her mellow voice.
My ears prick up.
"Started? What started?"
"The frequent meetings."
The words stab into my head like picks that have broken through hard rock and hit gold.
"I need you to tell me everything. What were these meetings? With whom? How often?" I ask desperately, keeping my hands in my lap to hide the fact that I'm fidgeting, twisting my fingers nervously.
"They started around September. Fujimoto-san came in one day and met a gentleman for what looked like a business meeting."
A suspect.
I have a suspect.
I almost go into convulsions, I'm so worked up.
"Who was he? What did he look like? Has he been here before?!"
I bombard her with so many questions that Shibata puts a hand on my arm and stops me.
"Aya, chill out," she says, looking at me squarely.
I don't want to 'chill out.' I'm on the verge of finding out who was harassing Miki. There will be no stopping from this point onwards.
Ochiai doesn't look taken aback at all. She begins to tell me all she knows. She speaks slowly, but everything she says is clear. Her tone tells me that she will tell me everything she knows and asks only for patience as she tells it.
"I still don't know who he is, but he had been here before the meetings started. He came maybe once a month for the past year or two. Not exactly what you would call frequent. We have never spoken. Prior to recent months, he usually came alone, but sometimes brought a friend with him. He's a handsome man and he dresses well. He seems like he would be very popular with the girls. He gets stared at a lot. He's young, but not as young as you girls."
I commit to memory everything she says.
"The first time I ever saw Fujimoto-san come here without you, Matsuura-san, was in September. Maybe the third or fourth. She came in and sat alone, looking like she was waiting for someone. It was around five or six in the evening. That man - I don't know his name - showed up and spoke with her. It seems she was waiting for him. They ordered drinks and had a chat and left an hour and a half later."
What did they talk about? Why this café? Where did they go afterwards? I want to ask, but I know that if she hasn't already told me, she probably doesn't know. I bite my tongue.
"After that, they began to meet frequently, sometimes coming in together, sometimes meeting at a table. It was always around the same time. They both looked like they were coming directly here after work. They would sit, chat, drink tea or coffee, and then leave together. They always left together."
I'm trying to figure it all out, but it just doesn't make sense. What could they be talking about? How did she meet him in the first place?
I look at Shibata to ask her opinion, but I'm taken aback by her expression. She's looking at me curiously, an eyebrow raised ever so slightly. 'Sounds suspicious, doesn't it?' her expression screams at me.
I know exactly what she's thinking, and no. No. Not after what I just read in that notebook. That mysterious guy could be more handsome than Johnny Depp and ten times a better person to her than I am and she would still only want me. She is - was - kind of stubborn (or stupid) that way and wouldn't know a good thing if it came up to her and smacked her in the face three times.
"No," I say solidly. "Miki was not-"
"I didn't say that," Shibata says, raising her hands in a show of good faith. "Just keep everything in mind."
I refuse to believe that Miki would be going behind my back like that. I mean, she was going behind my back with these meetings, but it wouldn't be something that would hurt me. Or at least not like that. Not my heart...
"Please listen. This is only half the story so far," Ochiai says quietly.
I've forgotten that she's there, and I wonder what my outburst has sounded like to her. Shibata and I hush up as she continues.
"The two of them met together once or twice a week for all of September, and then around the beginning of October, more people began to come to the meeting, all men. They seemed to be the man's friends or colleagues. I'm not sure. He would introduce them to Fujimoto-san. Sometimes only one additional man came, sometimes two, sometimes three. They were the same group of four men - the main man and his three colleagues. The meetings followed the exact same format as the solo meetings between Fujimoto-san and the first man."
A group of colleagues. There's more than one. There were four.
I shoot Shibata a triumphant smirk along with a raised eyebrow. 'See?' my face says to her. She doesn't know Miki like I do.
"I was just saying," she mumbles under her breath defensively, but she lets it drop.
"I began to realise that they were more business-type meetings. Sometimes they took notes. Other times they passed papers around. They were always amicable. Never any arguments. Fujimoto-san always seemed quite pleased. Then things changed around the middle of October."
"What happened?" I ask, my nervous hands coming to a stop.
"The meetings became more frequent. Three or four times a week, still at the same hour. They seemed to talk a lot more. It didn't seem like fun get-togethers anymore. There was a lot of note-taking, and sometimes I could hear them raising their voices. It was usually Fujimoto-san who became agitated."
It kills me to hear this.
What were they talking about?!
"This continued until a few days ago. I've been expecting them back any day now. Sometimes three days pass between meetings. They're due for another one soon."
I stare at Ochiai and she blinks.
"Although perhaps given recent tragic events, I would assume the next meeting might be held off."
I nod and look at Shibata for insight, but she looks just as confused as I do.
"Ochiai-san, how do you know so much? How do you remember all these details?" she asks with a frown.
I have to admit that I'm also wondering how she's been able to recall all of that so easily. It's as if she just made up any old story just to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible so that she can get back to work.
"Shibata-san, in my line of work, I have no time to myself during the day. My work keeps me busy, whether I'm balancing accounts, writing up schedules, or helping in the kitchen. Every weekday evening at around five-thirty, I take my only break of the day and I sit and have a coffee in the corner where I can observe my little shop. It's my time to reflect on the atmosphere of this place I've created and to notice what works and what doesn't. Even on my break, I'm constantly working, thinking up ways to make this place better. But atmosphere and decorations aside, nothing is more important to me than the people who come here. One of my hobbies has always been to watch people, so that's what I do. I look at my shop and I watch people in my spare time. I have watched Fujimoto-san and you," she nods to me, "come in here and I've learned a great deal of your personalities just from looking. I can tell you all sorts of things about some of the customers that are in this shop now, and we have never spoken before. I'm a person of intuition. I also happen to be blessed with a very sharp memory. Not photographic, but closer to it than most people's memories."
Her passionate soliloquy comes quite unexpectedly, but she's easy to understand. Easy, but eloquent. I think she likes speaking like that.
"A person of intuition?" Shibata asks. "Then would you mind if I asked you to tell us what your intuition is about these meetings Miki-chan and these men were having?"
Shibata and Ochiai. Probably the two most intuitive people I know. What a sleuthing pair they would make.
"To be perfectly honest, I had a very bad feeling about those meetings. The man seems nice on the outside, but there's something in him that I don't like it. Call it my sixth sense, but there's something broken in him. He's hurting inside. I know that Fujimoto-san is-" she breaks off and looks at me apologetically before continuing, "was a nice person. A kindred spirit. I think she got mixed up with the wrong people."
But for what??
The billion yen question.
Ochiai makes it clear that she's told all that she can remember, and she hints that she has to get back to the kitchen. Before she leaves, though, she faces me directly.
"I want to help you. Please come back and we'll talk again. I have a feeling this is not over."
She disappears into the kitchen.
I'm touched by her willingness to help, but chilled by her last words. Those men are still out in the open, and if they are the ones that killed Miki, nobody is safe. Shibata and I leave the café.
Once outside, we stand in the street. It's a little chilly. Winter is coming. We share a look and try to read each other's expressions. What do we think about the conversation we just had?
A hopeless feeling seems to dominate the air around us.
While it feels like we've learned a great deal, we've really learned nothing. We don't know who these men are and what they were talking about with Miki. We don't know how they got in touch with her and where they are now.
It's like a ten thousand yen note has been attached to the end of a fishing line that dangles before our faces, the fishing pole strapped to our backs. We can see the prize and walk towards it, but we can never get it because it's constantly one step ahead of us.
We're doomed I think. Absolutely doomed.
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Hu huhu!!! Awesome!
*Crosses a few scenario deaths off the list*
But now what...?
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Wow, that was absolutely gripping. I was sucked in by the owner's account of what happened. Those men huh...I wonder...I wonder indeed. I'm even more curious now as to what really happened.
Write more soon!
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Oh suspense!
As I said before... Hard for me to trust the new characters XD. That shop owner looks a bit weird too... And that's just make my mind set for that guy who likes Aya O_O, seems like a good description of what I have in mind for him.
But what exactly was Miki doing? Or the main question for me... Why did she keep those meetings a secret from Aya, even when she was still happy about those meetings... There must be something...
And I think its careless of Aya to walk around trusting people and asking about Miki, with Shibata also, if the people who killed Miki know, she and Shibata will be in danger right? And that will danger innocent people they asked too.
Also, even if Aya finally find the killer, what will she do to him/her/them? Things can get very emotional... And will it do any good for Aya herself? Relieve her from the pain of Miki's death? I don't think so... Miki didn't get anything beside the knowledge of why she can't get over Aya's death in your latest fic... Aya takes Miki's death better, but the pain in her heart is the same :|...
Wow, Ren. Some people have done that before - read all my previous stuff suddenly in 1 or 2 nights. It's kind of crazy. Thank you. Shibata and Aya hooking up is about as likely in my stories as Shibata and Megu hooking up, which is 0% (as I think I mentioned somewhere). Hahaha. And don't worry, I enjoy reading long comments. Yours was just as entertaining as JFC's epic gigglesob-filled review comments, Amarghetta's questions about my mother tongue, Estrea's marriage proposals, and so on (hahaha! :D).
Some of you have pointed out the difference between Aya's reaction to Miki's death and Miki's reaction to Aya's death. This is good! I like to look at things like that.
For me, the murder mystery is secondary to the emotional journey. I think Yuuyami pointed out the "what path will Aya take?" question, which I think it very important (I can't find the reference for the comment. I think it was during the backup forum time).
As usual, let's all listen to coachie. That's a good point.
Glad you enjoy my comment :). Yeah I'm crazy, when I'm doing something I like I can't stop XD. And what is your mother tongue by the way? XD
Oh and you marrying Estrea might be good, produce babies to write fanfics like you guys do XD.
*gets kicked*
So Shibata won't hook up with Aya, well that's good, because I see her more of the straight type ^^;.
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So she had meetings with four men since Sept., the girls finally have a lead! A part of me feels that only one or two of them had a hand in the murder.
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Yours was just as entertaining as JFC's epic gigglesob-filled review comments, Amarghetta's questions about my mother tongue, Estrea's marriage proposals, and so on (hahaha! :D).
Dunno if I should be glad or just ashamed for being part of that list... I don't like being this 'notorious'.
Now that Shibata and Aya have gone to the café, I'm kinda relieved by the things Ochiai said. Unlike many people here, I wasn't a fan of the murderer Tsuyoshi scenario. It was such an easy option that it bordered on disappointing... (No offense intended. It's just an opinion.)
There are even more questions to answer; but hey, isn't that what makes this fic interesting?
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There are several moments when I lower what I'm reading and look out across my apartment while thinking. I think of my replies to some of her statements. I touch my cheek because the image I have in my mind of her kissing it is so vivid that it actually feels like it's wet.
Miki is more thoughtful than I ever imagined. To have worried herself into writing a final message just for me (and nobody else - not her parents, not any other friend) is proof of her love. I've never considered writing something of the sort. That just goes to highlight the differences in our personalities. Opposites attract, and I guess that can apply to us in some ways.
These thoughts of hers are pure. I assume they were written before she was ever threatened. She wasn't writing desperately against time. She took it easy and really thought it through.
She thanked me. She praised me. She loved me. I will never forget. Take my memories from me and I will still remember her. She is part of me. How can I forget myself?
It's hard to find that one person who becomes such a part of you that their presence can always be felt, even if they're not physically there with you.
it sounds like the right timeframe for when it started," she says in her mellow voice.
My ears prick up.
"Started? What started?"
"The frequent meetings."
Okay, here comes the interesting stuff.
"The first time I ever saw Fujimoto-san come here without you, Matsuura-san, was in September. Maybe the third or fourth. She came in and sat alone, looking like she was waiting for someone. It was around five or six in the evening. That man - I don't know his name - showed up and spoke with her. It seems she was waiting for him. They ordered drinks and had a chat and left an hour and a half later."
Now on first impressions, it would be super easy to get the wrong impression based on how it was described.
The two of them met together once or twice a week for all of September, and then around the beginning of October, more people began to come to the meeting, all men. They seemed to be the man's friends or colleagues. I'm not sure. He would introduce them to Fujimoto-san. Sometimes only one additional man came, sometimes two, sometimes three. They were the same group of four men - the main man and his three colleagues. The meetings followed the exact same format as the solo meetings between Fujimoto-san and the first man.
The addition of additional people coming to the meetings (especially the parts about the note taking and arguments) really make you wonder what exactly they were talking about. It was obviously something that had to be fairly big if they were taking notes, after all. The fact that they'd leave together can't be coincidence either, IMO. Perhaps the meetings were continued in another location?
"Ochiai-san, how do you know so much? How do you remember all these details?" she asks with a frown.
I have to admit that I'm also wondering how she's been able to recall all of that so easily. It's as if she just made up any old story just to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible so that she can get back to work.
*soliloquy*
Her passionate soliloquy comes quite unexpectedly, but she's easy to understand. Easy, but eloquent. I think she likes speaking like that.
You know, it's the people like her that make the "mon 'n pop" joints so much better than big franchises. The people who are really good at what they do, and who are really good at what they do, they have this type of pride. And rightly so. You wouldn't get that type of attention to detail from a Starbucks employee.
"A person of intuition?" Shibata asks. "Then would you mind if I asked you to tell us what your intuition is about these meetings Miki-chan and these men were having?"
Shibata and Ochiai. Probably the two most intuitive people I know. What a sleuthing pair they would make.
"To be perfectly honest, I had a very bad feeling about those meetings. The man seems nice on the outside, but there's something in him that I don't like it. Call it my sixth sense, but there's something broken in him. He's hurting inside. I know that Fujimoto-san is-" she breaks off and looks at me apologetically before continuing, "was a nice person. A kindred spirit. I think she got mixed up with the wrong people."
But for what??
The billion yen question.
Ochiai makes it clear that she's told all that she can remember, and she hints that she has to get back to the kitchen. Before she leaves, though, she faces me directly.
"I want to help you. Please come back and we'll talk again. I have a feeling this is not over."
Well, it definitely isn't over for Aya and Shiba. The question is, what about those men Miki was meeting with? If, assuming they actually did kill Miki, they still needed something from her, would they approach Aya the same way?
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Hahaha, well, it's certainly not a bad thing, Amarghetta. My story is shameful - I'm known as the author who puts Aya and Miki through hell every story.
You know, it's the people like her that make the "mon 'n pop" joints so much better than big franchises. The people who are really good at what they do, and who are really good at what they do, they have this type of pride. And rightly so. You wouldn't get that type of attention to detail from a Starbucks employee.
I think instead of being an anthropologist, Shiba should follow in Ochiai's footsteps and establish her own coffee shop. Put Starbucks to shame. Maybe twenty years down the road. Hah.
(English is the language I'm the best at and most comfortable using, Ren.)
(Another secret I'm dying to tell: I wrote that last scene of the story. There are still quite a few chapters left before it comes, but I couldn't help it. I've had planned out in my head for so long and I was in the perfect mood, listening to the perfect music.)
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This is story's so complex...Now I can't stop imagining Ochiai, Aya, and Shibata setting up a sting operation at the cafe and then jumping the suspects.
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(Another secret I'm dying to tell: I wrote that last scene of the story. There are still quite a few chapters left before it comes, but I couldn't help it. I've had planned out in my head for so long and I was in the perfect mood, listening to the perfect music.)
So... oh god was it happy music you were listening to or sad music? or crazy OTN1-wants-to-put-Aya&Miki-through-more-hell music?
:'( ....... :D
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For some reason when I read that chapter, my inner perv started voicing ideas about what Miki was doing... x_x.
Yeah.
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Miki selling company secrets for sex with four men? I've sent Aya off to another dimension. I guess that's possible.
Hahaha, or not.
I can't say what music I was listening to, but I will say that it was very appropriate.
orangesocks, I love that image. Please read on. You've somewhat hit on something. :D
Chapter 17
"What do you think it was about?" I ask Shibata as we are sitting down for an early dinner at her favourite Italian restaurant.
She puts her fork and spoon down on her plate and ignores her fettuccini as I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I feel antsy, worried, and angry.
"It could be anything. Those guys could be music producers, lawyers, drug dealers... I don't know."
"She wasn't dealing drugs," I state firmly.
Of all the ridiculous things...
"I didn't say she was," Shibata sighs.
She sounds annoyed, and I feel bad. She's been with me almost non-stop since she came back yesterday, exhausted and confused out of her jetlagged mind. I don't mean to get so defensive when she says anything I don't agree with, but when it comes down to it, nobody knows Miki like I do. I don't even think she knew herself as well as I did. Do. Still do.
"Are you sure she didn't say anything to you? Any new thing coming up that wasn't necessarily related to U-Con?"
It's my turn to sigh. I've searched my brain one thousand and one times for anything useful, but I haven't been able to find anything.
"No, nothing. Everything she told me about was rooted in U-Con. The latest big news she gave me was a few months ago when she mentioned her boss hinted that she'd be given a national tour next year. But-" I breathe out, annoyed, "it was U-Con that told her. Not strange men in cafés. I mean, I talked about it with Tsuyoshi-kun, even. He knew about it."
Shibata's jaw hardens.
"I know who Tsuyoshi-kun is, but can you really trust him?" Shibata asks.
She did not just ask that. What is her problem? I have very few people left on this world that I can trust. I don't want them questioned like I have been by the police. I clench my fists.
"Tsuyoshi-kun would never do anything to hurt Miki or me. He wouldn't lie to me," I tell her evenly.
"You don't know that."
I put my cutlery down loudly.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Sugiura-san. I didn't realise it was you I was having dinner with. I thought you were someone else," I snap sarcastically.
I stand up and start to walk out. I'm fed up with this. We're getting nowhere.
"Aya-chan, wait," Shibata calls after me.
She runs up from behind me and grabs my wrist. I try to shake her hand off, but she's adamant about keeping me from running off.
"I'm sorry," she says quickly. "I'm playing devil's advocate. I'm just trying to look at this from all possible angles and see if we've missed anything. I really want to help you."
I let out a stressed out breath of air. It's halfway between a laugh and a sob. I look at her helplessly and she quietly asks me to come back and sit down. She lets go of me and goes to sit while I stand there. I look around and see some people staring at me. They all look away quickly when they notice I've noticed. I go back to sit down with Shibata. I have to keep my cool. Front page headlines about Diva Ayaya losing it at a ritzy Italian restaurant in Ginza is not what I need right now.
"Shiba-chan, I'm sor-"
"No, don't apologise," she says, shaking her head and refusing to listen to me. "You are going through everybody's worst nightmare. Don't feel bad. Let the anger out. You can't keep it bottled up. Besides, it takes more than a few harsh words to really piss me off."
"Shiba-chan," I say, looking up at her, my heart feeling a gram lighter than it was two seconds ago. "You're the greatest. I love you. Everybody needs a best friend like you."
"Hah, I wish you really meant that," she laughs.
"I really do. Thank you. You don't have to be doing this with me, yet you are. That's the sign of a true friend. Someone with a good soul."
She nods.
"Okay, Matsuura. Getting creepy now. Stop, please."
"Sorry," I say quickly.
We continue to eat, but in the middle of a bite of bread, Shibata suddenly makes an excited sound.
"Wait!" she says with her mouth full. I look up at her attentively. "Ochiai-san said that they took notes, right?"
I nod and then start to smile.
"I see what you're thinking."
"We need to find those notes. Do you think she had them on her?"
I shake my head.
"The police didn't find a bag when they found her b-" I stop myself and swallow down tears that seem to come out of nowhere. I trek on. "So they must be somewhere safe."
"Whoever killed her might have taken her bag from her," Shibata points out.
"Good point," I sigh, crossing my arms, my meal forgotten. "The only way to find out is to search her things. I need to get into her apartment. I need to see if the notes are there."
"But you said that she was staying with you for a few weeks."
I laugh bitterly.
"Well, I obviously had no clue she was going to those meetings at the café after work, so she could have easily gone back to her place and I wouldn't have known."
Shibata eyes me warily.
"Are you going to be okay? Are you angry with her?"
"I'm not angry," I sigh. "I'm puzzled. She had to have a really good reason. And the threat. That could keep her silent."
"You realise you can't just waltz in there and look around her apartment freely. It's being treated like a crime scene from what I've heard. If they find you, Sugiura-san seems like the kind of man who would retract his apology in a second. They'll think you're up to something and then we're going to be watched like hawks," Shibata explains.
"I can't just sit here and watch them pointlessly riffle through her life," I snap. "They don't know what they're looking for."
"Aya, they're police. They're not all dumb. Yes, we have an advantage because we've got that journal and we've got Ochiai-san. But the police have far better resources, and while I don't always trust the men behind the system, they still stand a better chance than we do."
"We'll be safe. We'll go when it's quiet. Three in the morning. They won't have men stationed there at that time, will they?"
"I don't know. I guess not," Shibata shrugs.
"Fine, then. Let's go tonight."
She doesn't say anything to that.
"What about at her workplace? They might be in that bottom drawer of hers," Shibata asks.
That's right. She could have kept her notes there.
And come to think of it, I remember the last time I saw her, she was carrying a big bag full of papers.
The last time I saw her...
I had no idea it would be the last time. I'm glad we didn't argue. I even made her leave twenty minutes late. It was an accident, of course, but in retrospect, it was the best accident I ever had.
And she smiled at me. It's like she knew we'd never see each other again. I should have taken a picture of that smile.
No, I should have just not let her go to work that day.
"Hey, are you okay?" Shibata's voice drifts into my thoughts, and I look up. She's watching me worriedly.
I nod glumly.
"S-sorry. Just thinking," I mumble. "Anyway, I'll get in touch with Tsuyoshi-kun and see if he can do anything for us at the office."
Shibata doesn't question my trust in him again. I don't expect her to, but I feel a little tense now because of what she has already said. Luckily, my phone ringing interrupts the tension that threatens to consume us.
I look at Shibata apologetically and pick up my phone, walking to the washroom.
It's Tsunku on the line. He's just heard about Miki and he's calling to check up on me, no doubt wanting details.
"Did you see her before it happened?" he asks.
I tremble as I recall every single detail in my mind.
"Um, I did. The day before she was, uh..." I trail off and he acknowledges that he understands. "She was.... she was killed. Did you know that?"
A dumb question. Of course he knows.
"Yeah, I know."
"And they still haven't, uh, found who..." I stumble through it.
"I heard."
"And... um, so, I-I don't think I want to do the reunion," I blurt out.
There's a silence on the line.
"That's not what I was calling for," Tsunku says firmly. "This isn't a business call. I just want to know if you're okay."
He really is the nicest boss I have ever had. It's a shame I don't work for him anymore.
"I'm... I mean..."
How do I answer that question? How am I? I don't even know. One minute I'm fuming, the next I'm crying, the next I'm laughing...
I'm just confused.
"I'm hanging in there."
It's as neutral an answer as I can give. Tsunku sucks in some air through his teeth.
"Well, if you need anything, get in touch. Incidentally, the reunion is being postponed. I thought it was best after I heard the news."
It's in this moment that I realise for the first time what kind of job Tsunku has. He has to call the shots. Make the big decisions. He has to keep his record label afloat, bring in profit, and think of his employees and their families.
And here he is, cancelling what could possibly be his most profitable venture in the next fiscal year. He's dropping it just like that.
Others might not be able to see, but I can. He's got a heart, and he knows how to use it when it's important.
"Thank you," I mumble.
Our goodbyes are quiet and respectful, and I turn to head back to the table, but I receive another phone call before I can take a single step. It's the Fujimoto family's home number. I answer quickly.
Miki's mother tells me they received Miki's body this evening and that I should head up there the day after tomorrow. She says I can stay with her and her husband. My mood goes directly from touched to depressed. I tell her I'll contact her as soon as I'm in Takikawa. Our conversation is less than five minutes long, and it ends on a solemn note.
I head back to the table, and Shibata can see the cloud that has formed over me. I tell her shakily about the two phone conversations, and she tries to comfort me, but I don't listen to her words.
Funeral. I'm going to a funeral. Miki's funeral.
I'm not ready for it. I never could be.
All I want to do is walk down the street until I find the mystery man. If he's the one that killed Miki.
But I can't just do that. It's a gigantic city whose streets and crowds seem to morph into different, new shapes every day. If only I knew what this man did or the neighbourhood he lived in, or even some hobby of his. I could find his stomping grounds and go and stalk him down. I could-
Find his stomping grounds? I've already found one.
"Shibata!" I hiss, lowering my voice. "The café. Ochiai-san said that the man has been going there for a while now. Even before he ever spoke to Miki."
"Yes, but she said he would go around once a month. It's not exactly a regular spot for him," Shibata says carefully, weighing the idea in her head.
"He might have changed his mind. Or-or maybe he's still going to have meetings with those other guys," I say, filled with a new kind of hope. "We need to stake out the café and wait for him to show up and..."
"And what?" Shibata asks. "Arrest him? Even if he does show up there again, we can't prove anything."
I think hard.
"Then we have to get to know him. Miki did. We can, too."
"No," Shibata says with finality in her tone. "Too dangerous. We don't know what he's capable of. He might have had something to do with the murder. He might be the murderer. And remember how in the journal there were those threats? If we're interpreting them correctly, it's you those people threatened to kill. He knows who you are."
The gravity of our situation has become apparent, and suddenly I'm aware of just how much danger I'm in. I could be being watched. Maybe I'm a target. A liability to them that has to be eliminated. Who knows...
"They don't know you," I blurt out before I can stop myself. Shibata's eyes widen almost imperceptibly. "I know it's a lot to ask, but..."
If she were to sit there and watch those guys, they'd be none the wiser. They wouldn't think she and Miki were friends.
"You want me to sit at the café all day and wait for that man to show up - if he ever goes there again - and do what? Talk to him?"
I shrug. I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead. All I know is that we have to find him. He's our only lead.
"Fine," she says, and I blink in surprise. "But I can't spend my whole day there every day. I do have to work. Tomorrow we'll go and speak with Ochiai-san again. I have a feeling if we leave her our numbers, she'll be able to help us."
I can't believe it. Shibata has just offered herself up as bait. She's offered to sit in a café and watch the man who might have made my life a living nightmare.
It's dangerous, stupid, and silly, and if I could do it myself, I would in a flash.
"Shiba-chan. Thank you."
It's a half-baked plan. There are holes in it everywhere.
But it's a start. We can get by with a little help from our friends.
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The funeral. What will Aya do at the funeral? Stand there, watching Miki getting buried? Don't Miki's family suspect their relationship? Or maybe Aya is just going to tell them? Miki's family deserve to know something... Somehow I feel like Brokeback Mountain: GAM version O_O.
And as I said before again, too careless Aya... She's sacrificing or putting everything to be dangerous by doing the detective work, and what else can she find except who is the killer and why Miki was killed. Going detective mode and knowing all the truth can't change the fact that Miki is dead already... ;_; And to even put Shibata on the line, I doubt anything will happen to Shibata, but Aya risk the possibility of losing her other best friend...
Ahh by the way you have a typo XD. Is it okay for me to tell this? I figured you might want to fix it.. ^^;
"Shibta!" I hiss, lowering my voice. "The café. Ochiai-san said that the man has been going there for a while now. Even before he ever spoke to Miki."
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I have a feeling the funeral will be really awkward... with those mystery guys there for some reason...
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^ Lol, it's like in those dramas.. there's always random suspiscious men that you don't know lurking around.
Shiba-chan really is a great friend! I know if I were her, I'd probably be at least pissed off by now, even if I understand that Aya is going through a crappy time right now. I'm glad Aya has Shiba-chan with her.
Although I really don't like the police, I think maybe the two would probably be better off co-operating them. But the police might not let them in on some of the stuff, you know, with that whole Sugiura guy hanging around. I don't like him. :mad:
Looking forward to the next update!
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Thanks for pointing out my mistake, Ren. It's certainly okay to tell me things like that!
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Now that Shibata mentioned it, I can't stop suspecting Tsuyoshi-kun, even though he's been nothing but helpful to Aya.
Wait! Now I'm suspecting Shibata as well, seeing as she's been rather helpful herself... :( She could very well being double-crossing Ayaya! Or not.
The prospect of Aya attending Miki's funeral is just too...agh painful!!
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This is the most insane, dangerous, of the wall, "half baked" plan ever...and yet I see myself doing the same thing...well this is gonne be interesting, no doubt.
Ouch. Funeral. That bites something cronic. Attending your friends own funeral (*mind wanders to Moeru manner story and back again*)
I keep expecting this to be some sick cosmic joke to teach Aya a lesson and during some chapter Miki is just gonna jump out from behind a pot plant and go "Surprise!"..
Or you could be really morbid about it and have her resurection before/during/after the funeral....
Its not gonna happen right..?
Mikis gone for real, isnt she..?
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And as I said before again, too careless Aya... She's sacrificing or putting everything to be dangerous by doing the detective work, and what else can she find except who is the killer and why Miki was killed. Going detective mode and knowing all the truth can't change the fact that Miki is dead already... ;_; And to even put Shibata on the line, I doubt anything will happen to Shibata, but Aya risk the possibility of losing her other best friend...
Putting it lightly, Aya seems to be a little bit frazzled. And for good reason too, it's been what? four days since Miki died? Five? She's putting herself and her friends in a lot of danger, and for what? Bloody vengence? Turn them over to the cops? Either way she's facing jail time and a significantly screwed-up life. This latest plan isn't looking too good either. Oh well, it's probably better for her (mentally) to go out there and do something instead of just sitting at home and crying her eyes out. Huh, I just realized that Ren already said everything I wanted to say in her earlier post, Oh well.
By the way OTN1. I just noticed your signature. Is that scene going to be in one of the future chapters?
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Miki selling company secrets for sex with four men? I've sent Aya off to another dimension. I guess that's possible.
Hahaha, or not.
Dude, don't even kid about something like that. :dizzy:
"I'm playing devil's advocate. I'm just trying to look at this from all possible angles and see if we've missed anything. I really want to help you."
That's one of the best ways to make sure that you take into account EVERY single possibility. After all, you don't want to let potential bias for/against something to lead you away from a possible lead.
"Shiba-chan, I'm sor-"
"No, don't apologise," she says, shaking her head and refusing to listen to me. "You are going through everybody's worst nightmare. Don't feel bad. Let the anger out. You can't keep it bottled up. Besides, it takes more than a few harsh words to really piss me off."
Indeed, better to let it out when you're with someone you're close with, as they're going to be more forgiving and understanding of what you're going through. Had Aya ranted at Sugiura like that, he likely wouldn't have called her to let her know of the bag of stuff Miki wanted her to have.
"Shiba-chan," I say, looking up at her, my heart feeling a gram lighter than it was two seconds ago. "You're the greatest. I love you. Everybody needs a best friend like you."
"Hah, I wish you really meant that," she laughs.
"I really do. Thank you. You don't have to be doing this with me, yet you are. That's the sign of a true friend. Someone with a good soul."
She nods.
"Okay, Matsuura. Getting creepy now. Stop, please."
"Sorry," I say quickly.
Heh, cute friendly awkward moment. :bigdeal:
"The only way to find out is to search her things. I need to get into her apartment. I need to see if the notes are there."
Evidence!
"You realise you can't just waltz in there and look around her apartment freely. It's being treated like a crime scene from what I've heard. If they find you, Sugiura-san seems like the kind of man who would retract his apology in a second. They'll think you're up to something and then we're going to be watched like hawks," Shibata explains.
"I can't just sit here and watch them pointlessly riffle through her life," I snap. "They don't know what they're looking for."
This is where Aya needs to be careful. Keeping herself from being a suspect is one thing. She really doesn't need to make a potential enemy out of them at this point.
"We need to stake out the café and wait for him to show up and..."
"And what?" Shibata asks. "Arrest him? Even if he does show up there again, we can't prove anything."
I think hard.
"Then we have to get to know him. Miki did. We can, too."
Now Aya's just playing with fire. And the fact that she's convinced Shiba-chan to be the bait...they both really need to tread carefully here (though considering the circumstances, can't always be sure if Aya's thinking with her brain or with her heart).
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Oh, shit. Aya's taking some big risks. :< Of course, starting this whole personal investigation was a big risk anyway! I'm glad she has Shibata's logic to help her, but Shibata's also taking the big risk with her. She's willing to do something like that for Aya . . . And, even Miki, you could say. That's pretty cool, and it shows how much she really cares. (Shibata :heart:)
But . . . the funeral. This isn't going to be easy to read. (Or write, I assume?)
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maybe those 4 mens will show up at the funeral? ..... . . . but then they're in different cities....ah, nevermind~ but aya sure don't have much good plans right now...kinda worrying for her.
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Iacus, I realised how appropriate my signature was when I was halfway through what I've written so far. Dramatic murder mystery investigation story! Shiba-chan and a gun seem to fit so well together.
But... I'll give no hints! But . . . the funeral. This isn't going to be easy to read. (Or write, I assume?)
I'm stalling like never before.
Now Aya's just playing with fire. And the fact that she's convinced Shiba-chan to be the bait...they both really need to tread carefully here (though considering the circumstances, can't always be sure if Aya's thinking with her brain or with her heart).
I think now with Aya almost losing her mind from grief and anger, she's thinking 100% with her heart. No brain involved. Shiba-chan's kind of there to act as her brain, but as bright and sensible as the girl is, she's still only human... and when it comes to Aya, Shiba-chan also thinks a lot with her heart. Crap, I need to write the Shiba-chan POV.
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I'm back with more. Ready to hit this one. Since "[t]he message exceeds the maximum allowed length (20000 characters)," I'll post it in two chunks. They're one chapter.
Chapter 18
After we finish our meal, we part ways for a few hours. I go back to my apartment and change into more casual clothes.
I call up a travel agent and work my magic. It's very last minute, but I get myself a plane ticket to Sapporo for the day after tomorrow. It'll be waiting for me at Haneda Airport. Heart heavy, I write it down in my agenda book. Not that I’m going to forget something like that.
I then call Tsuyoshi up. He sounds relieved to hear from me.
"Are you at work?"
"Yes. I was just about to pack up for the day."
I put on my sweetest voice.
"Could you do me a huge favour?"
"Um, of course."
I explain that I need to get into Miki's office and look for some important papers. He informs me that the police are still searching through Miki's things, but that they're not around at the moment.
"They've got the place taped off, though. Standard 'do no enter' stuff."
I stay silent for a moment to emphasise my reluctance to back off.
"Most people are gone by nine," he suggests helpfully. "At least in the offices on this floor. There are the usual few who pull all-nighters downstairs in the studios."
"Tsuyoshi-kun, do you think you could get me into Miki's office?"
He's quiet, and when I'm positive he's going to say no, he speaks up.
"Can you be here at ten-thirty tonight?"
We make arrangements to meet, and I hang up with a thanks. After that, I call Shibata and tell her about my plan with Tsuyoshi.
"Be careful. It could get tricky," she warns me.
I assure her I'll be all right.
"Oh, and Miki's apartment. What time do you want to go tonight?"
"Well..." she drawls reluctantly. "Are you really sure you want to do that?"
"Positive."
I've been aching to go over there. I haven't been in so long, it seems. Not since before my otherworldly ordeal in Hokkaido. Maybe if I go, it'll feel like Miki's still alive...
"Then as late as possible. Two or three if we can."
I think about a plan.
"The last train will leave us there around one-fifteen. We can hang out at a nearby diner until two-thirty or so. Then we'll move in. Most people are usually asleep by then."
She doesn't say anything.
"I'll see you at the station tonight, then," I say, filling in the silence.
"Right."
Our conversation ends there, and I feel uneasy.
I attempt to calm myself down by taking a bath, but I don't feel at all good as I sit in the warm water and let my thoughts run wild.
When I get out of the bathtub, I want to go into my room to find Miki there reading or listening to music. I want all of this horror to be a dream or a joke.
I want it so desperately as my mind wanders through the memories.
"Stop that."
"Stop what?"
"Poking me."
"I'm not poking you."
"Yes you are. Stop it."
"Make me.
"Fine!"
Miki tackles me and I take a deep breath before my head goes under the water. I claw at her and pull her down with me. I burst through the surface of the water and take a deep breath, laughing so hard to see Miki struggling. She makes it back up for air, sputtering and looking like a pissed off drowned cat, her hair plastered against her head.
"Are you trying to kill me?!"
I laugh in her face and poke her again.
"No."
She growls at me but doesn't fight back. She knows I've won for now. We are, after all, in public. A very private public, but still, anybody could walk in at any moment. We finally did make it to Hakone after our first failed attempt.
I sit back against the natural rock wall of the onsen, my whole body submerged in the warm water, and I tug her over to sit beside me. She does so with a lot of grumbling and reluctance.
"Listen to that," I say, closing my eyes and leaning back.
She listens but then makes an unsure sound at the back of her throat.
"I don't hear it. What?"
"Exactly," I say with a smile, my eyes still closed. "Nothing. Peace and quiet."
Her hand finds mine under the water and holds onto it. I can sense her settle against the wall.
"I like," she mumbles.
I open my eyes and see that's she's copying me, her head leaned against the wall, eyes closed. I commit the image to memory, and then go back to my head-rested, eyes-closed position.
I live for these moments.
I fall asleep in the bath and I wake up when I slip in and start to drown. I cough and get out, getting dressed as quickly as I can. It's almost time to go to U-Con.
At ten-thirty, I arrive in front of the U-Con building. Waiting like he promised, there is Tsuyoshi. He's still dressed in his work clothes.
"You haven't gone home yet?" I ask in surprise.
He nods.
"I stuck around. It wasn't worth the bother to leave."
"I'm sorry..."
"It's okay," he smiles. "My parents aren't great conversationalists at the dinner table, so I didn't miss much."
He leads me through the front door.
"Um, shouldn't we go through the back?" I ask worriedly, looking around for anyone watching.
He raises an eyebrow.
"You watch too many movies."
We ride the elevator up and arrive at the fifth floor. The place seems deserted, and half the lights are turned off.
"Everyone on this floor has gone home. We've got the place to ourselves provided nobody from the fourth floor comes here to borrow something."
Okay, then. Let's not waste any time."
I take out two pairs of gloves and hand one to Tsuyoshi.
"Just in case," I say to his questioning look.
We put the gloves on and move into Miki's office, ducking under the tape the police have put up.
The inside of her office looks like someone gutted a fish, rearranged all the internal organs incorrectly, and stuffed them back in the fish's belly. Boxes of her things litter the floor, her desk has been moved off to the side, papers piled up on it, and her chair is non-existent.
I round the desk and go straight to the bottom drawer. I pull at it and am satisfied when it slides open easily. The police have broken the lock. I know this because Miki mentioned in her after-death package that she kept the bag she wanted me to have in the bottom drawer.
I kneel down to get a closer look. The bottom drawer is fairly empty. There are some folders, some loose papers, a few trivial knick knacks that I never knew she had, and a coffee cup given to her by her mother on her twenty-third birthday. The oddest present she ever received from her mother, she had told me.
I reach for the folders and papers right away and put them on the desk.
"Found it?" Tsuyoshi asks from across the room, no doubt giving me some distance out of respect and privacy.
"I'm not sure," I mumble, picking up the first paper.
It's nothing important. Or at least it used to be important. It's just a bill. Now she doesn't have to pay bills anymore...
"I'll go wait for you out at my desk, okay?" Tsuyoshi says, pointing outside.
I look up, nod, and then return my attention to the paper in front of me.
I grit my teeth and move on to the next paper.
The other loose papers are all her latest bills. Cell phone, internet, electricity, gas. I know that she takes them to work with her the day after receiving them because she doesn't like to look at them when she gets home after a long day. She prefers to end her day on a good note, and I couldn't agree with her way of thinking more.
Inside the first folder are notes from meetings at U-Con. I skim through them quickly, but they all mention names of co-workers or information about various things going on within the company.
Inside the second folder is one piece of paper. On the paper, there's a list of items. I read through them and realise that it's a "to do" list. But a little more elaborate than that. She has some of her goals written on it. At the very bottom, she's written "take over the world," and I sigh because she never got the chance to try.
I look in the drawer again, but there are no papers left. I put everything back the way I found it and then quickly search the other drawers. Nothing. I look through the papers on top of her desk. Nothing. Unless I'm missing some sort of coded detail, there's nothing here from her meetings at the café.
Once I finish, I step back outside and see Tsuyoshi sitting at his desk, half asleep. I call out to him quietly so that I don't scare him by suddenly appearing by his side, and he gets up.
"Any luck?" he asks hopefully.
I shake my head.
"Sorry to have made you stay here for nothing," I say glumly.
"No, don't be sorry. It's for a good cause."
He smiles at me brilliantly, and I wonder if he has a girlfriend. A nice guy like him could make just about anyone happy. He could probably even make me hap-.
No.
I shut that thought out of my head before it can take further shape. What I need right now are friends to help me through this, not some sort of replacement Miki. Nobody can replace her. She's non-replaceable.
I know for a fact that the desperation I'm feeling is because I'm just that - desperate. Desperate for her to be alive again and pushing myself onto other people to help me lose myself and forget that this terrible thing is happening. I've done it at least once before. Thrown myself at someone because of Miki. It's the same as drowning one's sorrows in alcohol, but I really don't like drinking enough to do that.
I smile back, and we head out and take the train together part of the way home.
When Tsuyoshi gets off at his station, I feel a little lost again. There's nothing at Miki's office that suggests any meetings have been taking place outside of U-Con. There must be something at her apartment. If Shibata and I do a thorough search tonight, we can discover whatever it is.
A few hours later, I board the last train that will get me to Miki's station. It's late and I feel unsafe. There are murderers out there. I know for a fact that they exist. Whoever they are, they know who I am. I'm positive.
I'm glad to see Shibata waiting at the east exit. I feel a little safer to know that someone's got my back.
When I greet her, she seems distracted. I try to talk to her about what we're about to do, but she's unresponsive, giving me the bare minimum of acknowledgement.
We sit down at the window seat of a Gusto diner and order hot coffee. I watch her as we sip quietly and I think I can see what's going on. I get it.
"Are you with me?" I ask into our silence.
"What?" she asks, looking genuinely startled.
"Are you with me or not? I need you, but if you're not going to give me one hundred per cent, then you can forget about it."
She looks at me with a look of concentration. I realise my words are a little sudden, perhaps ambiguous, but I trust her to be smart enough to catch what I mean.
"Yes, I'm with you. I'm just worried."
"Worried about what?" I demand.
She lets herself frown, looking angry with me, something I haven't seen in a while.
"Aya-chan, I don't like what you're doing. You're going down some sort of weird path that I understand, but don't approve of. You've become wild."
"What are you talking about? You're doing the same thing. You're taking all these steps with me," I snap back.
"No!" she interrupts me loudly and then lowers her voice. "Lying to the police and sneaking around behind their backs? Involving some poor nineteen year old boy to help you do your dirty work? Wanting to stalk these men Miki was having meetings with because you think they might have killed her? Who are you, Aya?"
I stare back at her, my mind in a rage.
I thought she was my friend. I thought she promised to stand by me and help me out. Is she going to back out now?
"This is me, Shibata. This is me when my life has been ruined, ripped to shreds by murder. If you were in my position and you lost Miki, you'd be doing the same thing," I whisper harshly.
"Yeah, and if you were in my position, you'd be doing the same thing as I am - trying to talk some sense into you."
That silences me. I try to think.
"Listen," she says, her voice softening. "I just want to make sure you're going to be okay. I'm with you every step of the way because I want to be there for you. I just want you to promise me that you won't get so lost down this path of vengeance that you'll do something stupid to hurt yourself or your life."
I take a calming breath and remind myself that Shibata is still my friend. She might be paranoid that I'm going off my rocker, but I'll prove to her that I'm not. I'm perfectly fine. Depressed as hell, but not about to jump off a bridge or wash a bottle of painkillers down with a bottle of whiskey. I have a mission, and nothing will stop me from accomplishing it.
"I'm doing this to find her killers and make them face justice. I'm not going to hurt myself," I tell her calmly.
She nods, but I still feel like there's something lacking. I let it drop, though, because at least I've secured her on my side. That's what I need. Maybe in time she'll understand that this is the only way to go about doing what I have to do.
We continue to sip coffee in silence. She nods off and falls asleep, but I can't. I'm wide awake from the caffeine and anticipation. My drugs.
-
At two thirty, I shake her awake, and we pay the bill.
It's cold outside. We walk quickly and I'm thankful that Miki's apartment is near the station. Trying to stay in the shadows, we enter the apartment and ride up the elevator. I stay behind while Shibata goes ahead just in case the police are there. I watch as she turns the corner, and for a moment I feel like she's been swallowed up into some other world because I can't hear her footsteps. I'm relieved when I see her come back around the corner and wave at me that the coast is clear. I jog and catch up with her.
When we reach Miki's door, the reality of what we're about to do hits me. The reality of Miki's status is confirmed once again as I hold her key tightly in my hand. I can see Shibata look at me, but I don't look back. Instead, I reach into my pocket and pull out the same pairs of gloves I'd used this afternoon for myself and Tsuyoshi.
Shibata takes one pair and puts them on silently.
We're about to break into an apartment. The tenant is dead, and while I might have inherited all of her stuff, I'm not sure who exactly owns the property now. The actual apartment itself. Is it still under her name? Have her parents taken it over? Her company? Her landlord? The police? All I know is that what I'm doing is highly illegal.
And highly necessary.
I put the key into the hole, and with a silent prayer, I slowly turn it, twisting the doorknob and opening the door slowly. I walk in first, careful not to bump into anything.
Her home is in far less disorder than her office. It seems they've been a little more respectful about keeping it neat. A few things are out of place, but it looks like it's just messy. Like she's going to pop out from the bedroom at any moment and say "glad you could come over, you two. Help me clean!"
Shibata follows me in. I hit my hand over a light switch which Shibata promptly turns off again with a warning look. I nod sheepishly. Of course it would be strange if a dead girl's lights suddenly turned on in the middle of the night. If anyone were to be watching, they might raise some questions. For some reason, we don't speak. It feels like if we speak, the police will know we're here and jump out to arrest us. I point to the curtains, which are drawn closed.
Okay to open? I ask her with a look.
She replies with a nod.
I open the curtains, the light from the city brightening the room up considerably. It occurs to me that we've forgotten to bring flashlights. For the first time in my life, I regret that I don't have a habit of breaking in and entering homes.
I see Shibata take out her phone and use it as a flashlight.
Good thinking.
I do the same.
I go into Miki's bedroom. Everything is exactly the same. I touch the bed softly. It's been made hastily, as if she couldn't be bothered to spend time doing it properly since she knew she was going over to my place. I study her bookshelf intently, looking for any papers, but there's nothing. Unless I check every single page of every single book, this is the best I can do.
Her closet is wide open, so I go over to it. There's a whole variety of clothes hanging there, and some of mine, too. Of course the police don't know that. I look in and behind boxes, check some papers that are just sitting there, but upon inspecting them with the light from the display screen on my phone, I see that they're not important.
I move out of her bedroom and into the living room. Shibata is there looking through some papers, but she looks up at me and shakes her head. Nothing there. I sit down across from her and help her look through the folders she's got in front of her.
Bills, old receipts, and even a boarding pass stub from a flight to Australia (what a sentimental girl), but no meeting notes.
Shibata is reading something with interest, and she looks up at me. The strange lighting makes her look like a pale blue ghost.
"Were you really going to travel around the world together?" she asks me almost dreamily.
What is she talking about?
I frown and stick out my hand and she passes me the notebook she's reading. In it, Miki has written out an amazing itinerary for a trip around the world. She's listed a handful of countries on each continent. Under each country, she's listed all sorts of activities to do there. Some involve fun things like sightseeing and water sports, but some are a bit strange. Benefit concert in Rio de Janeiro, or meeting the leader of some country in Eastern Europe that I didn't know existed until now. She sure had big plans.
At the top of the page, she's got my name doodled in neat bubble letters, and she's drawn a heart around it. I flush with embarrassment because Shibata's seen that. Miki sometimes acts like a girl with a high school crush when she's around me. It's sweet because then she does cute things that I get a kick out of, but if other people see it, they might not take it seriously.
When I finish reading, I sigh. She'd always said she wanted to travel the world with me. I didn't know she'd dreamed up a plan like this. She must have been very bored one day. I look at it sadly and then hand it back to Shibata.
"You know, you always told me she was really thoughtful and focused when she wanted to do something, but now that I've seen it for myself..." she trails off and smiles. "It's very sweet. You're lucky."
Very sweet, but never again. All that sweetness of hers was drained away along with her life. Stolen from me by people who will pay.
"It's very sweet," I repeat, handing the notebook back.
Sensing I don't want to talk about it, Shibata puts the notebook down and moves on to the next.
It takes us a long time, but we go through every paper we can locate.
We find no valuable information. Nothing pertaining to any meetings outside of U-Con. Nothing naming her killers.
Another investigation that ends at a dead end.
Finally, at about four-thirty, we decide to leave. There's nothing here for me but memories. I'm drowning in them. The entire time I'm there, I keep expecting her to call out to me, or I imagine her sitting there with us and asking, "What are we looking for?"
I say goodbye to the place for now. I know I'll have to come back – with permission - in order to pick up her things. They have been left to me, after all.
Shibata and I go back to the same Gusto to keep warm and wait for the train station to open.
"Sorry I dragged you out here for this," I say, looking down at my cup of tea.
"No worries," Shibata says. She's lightened up since we were last at this diner. It's probably because we've gotten away successfully with our little dalliance with the dark side of justice. "What's our next step?"
I blink in surprise. She's lightened up more than I thought.
"Terrace café tomor- uh, today," I say quickly. "We need to stake it out, see if Mystery Man visits again. And we need to give Ochiai our numbers so that she can call us if he pops by."
"We? Not we. Me. I'm going to stake it out. You're not going in there. You're too well known," Shibata says firmly, reminding me of our plan. I was just feeling like getting involved...
"Right, well, if you're okay with it..." I trail off.
"Yes, I'm fine," she says quickly. "We'll go this morning, then. Right when the shop opens."
It feels like we're back on the same wavelength. I think the trip to Miki's apartment has opened up her mind and made her see the reality as harshly as I have. Such a real, caring person has been murdered. Now her desire to find out who did it is stronger.
"When are you going to Hokkaido?" Shibata asks, interrupting my thoughts and changing the subject.
"Tomorrow morning," I say quietly. "My flight's at eleven."
She nods.
"Please give my respects to the family."
My turn to nod.
We fall into a silence. Not awkward, but not happy.
Funeral.
I still can't believe it.
We brood for far too long and miss the first train that will take us home. We leave the diner after five-thirty and walk to the station together. It's started to rain a little. Just a few stray drops, but it looks like it's going to be a gloomy day. Clouds cover the entire sky and it smells like a huge downpour is on its way.
"Want to come over to my place?" Shibata asks as we're riding the train.
I nod. I don't want to be alone right now.
We make it to her apartment building just as the torrent begins. We get a little wet. We hurry into her apartment and decide quick showers are in order. She lets me go first, and she lends me some of her clothing.
I fall asleep on her couch while she's taking her shower. Some time later, I'm awoken by her calling out my name. I open up my eyes and see that I'm lying on her couch. She's put a blanket over me.
"What time is it?" I ask, rubbing my bleary eyes.
"It's almost ten. We should get ready and head to the café."
We do just that.
The place is empty when we walk in. The server tries to seat us, but we ask to speak to Ochiai. It's the same server from our last visit, and she looks at us with a "hah, you were the two girls that worried me last time" look. She must have found out that we weren't calling on Ochiai to complain about her service. She goes to get her boss for us.
"Good morning," Ochiai greets us.
We return the greeting, and the three of us sit down to talk.
Carefully, leaving out all illegal details, we explain to Ochiai that we want to meet the men that Miki had been meeting. However, we don't want them to know it. Ochiai asks how we propose to do it, and I tell her that Shibata will simply go in as often as possible and hang around. If the men ever come back, Ochiai will let Shibata know, and then Shibata can use her charm and intelligence to start talking to them.
Ochiai gives away nothing with her facial expression.
"That could be dangerous," she states calmly.
Shibata knows.
"I know. But there's no other way," she says.
I'm relieved to hear her say that.
"We were wondering if we could leave our numbers with you, Ochiai-san," I say. "Shiba-chan might not be able to be here all the time, but if those men ever do come back, it would be great if you could call her or me..."
Without a word, and with perfect timing that must be a sign that what we are doing is right, Ochiai sticks her hand and pickpockets the server walking by, taking her pen and pad of paper without her even noticing.
Shibata and I look at each other and crack smiles. Ochiai is certainly an enigma.
We dictate our numbers and e-mail addresses, and she rips the piece of paper off the pad and sticks it in her pocket.
"I assume nobody is to know about this."
Shibata and I nod emphatically.
"Will that be a problem?" Shibata asks.
"No. My husband might ask why I have the name of a famous idol entered in my phone, but those questions can easily be avoided," she says with a mysterious smile.
The enigmatic woman suddenly grows a layer. She's got a husband. I wonder what else we can learn about her. Unfortunately, today is not the day to learn. Six customers enter within the space of five minutes, and we have to split up. Shibata and I vacate the table and thank Ochiai graciously. We leave the café, passing by a poor server who is now looking desperately through her pockets for the pen and pad she could have sworn she had on her.
Finally, something has gone our way.
We spend the next few hours together. We grab a quick lunch and talk about Miki. It's inevitable. I can't stop talking about her. I'm probably driving Shibata nuts with my inability to find another topic, but I need to relive it all. All the memories. I need to talk about her as much as possible so that I don't forget anything.
When the time comes, we say goodbye. She wishes me a good flight in the morning, and I tell her to mail me with any news. We share a look before parting, and for a brief moment, I think that everything will be okay.
The bitter, lost, hopeless, grieved feeling in me has to tone down someday.
Right?
-
"Aya-chan, I don't like what you're doing. You're going down some sort of weird path that I understand, but don't approve of. You've become wild."
Sukeban Deka Code Name: Wild Ayaya! (Cue Ayaya kickin' ass in a tubetop)
The story is getting all dramatic now! For some reason I'm really hoping that it's like a dream... and then Ayaya wakes up with Miki drooling on her. Except your story probably won't end like that :(. Anyway, can't wait till the next chapter!
-
hmm, you know...I have aboslutely no idea where this is going...
Is the Hokkaido alternate reality linked in any morale way to this story and its future? or was that just a crazy Alice in Wonderland adventure?...
Lol@ Miki taking over the world
Lol@ the possibility of a Casper-like-Miki XD
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so much happened in the chapter...yet everything remains the same (at least from my interpretation). after reading, i have this sad and depressing aftertaste~ sniff sniff* miki....come back.. . . .. .
-
Finally got around to catch up on this!
Phew, they did it. I was half expecting some problems/obstacles to appear but it seems all went smooth.
The idea of them snooping around at night is kind of hot :D
And as promised and for the sake of the 10 chapters of fluff here's the crazy most unlikely theory I came up with one late evening.
What if Aya killed Miki, for whatever reason, jeelousy, I don't know, and due to the shock of her action she went into denial and forgot all about it, and now she's hunting down the killer: herself :D
(- crazy theory courtesy of "The Machinist" and films alike -)
Yeah, I know completely unrealistic, there's absolute no hints to something like that in the story.
-
My head is swimming right now... :dizzy:
-
Mikan, the Hokkaido alternate reality is part of this Aya's life, so she carries around what she learned from it. She treats it as something that happened, so we should, too. (But I don't plan to go all Twilight Zone on your guys again, so we're not going to suddenly have Baachan or Hiroshi, Miki's basketball-playing graduate student boyfriend, suddenly popping up out of nowhere.)
Hahaha, good theory, Coachie. That is pretty wild...
-
And so begins a series of chapters that will be difficult to write.
Chapter 19
It's colder up north, but the block of ice that exists in place of my heart feels worse than any winter temperature could. I arrive at Takikawa station alone and take a taxi cab to the Fujimoto residence. I mail Miki's mother from the back of the car and tell her I'll be there soon.
The scenery outside looks the same. I was just here a few weeks ago. Or at least somewhere similar to here. I still don't know what happened. All I'm certain is that I did come here for two months. Those oven mitts couldn't have magically appeared in my kitchen.
The driver drops me off in front of the house. I lug my things with me and ring the doorbell, my hands fidgeting with the handle of my suitcase in nervousness and anticipation of what kind of greeting I'm going to get. I'm not sure what to expect from the family. They really like me, and Miki's mother has been extremely nice to me over the phone the past few days, but I can't help but feel they might blame me for not watching out for Miki, and I do feel a little bad about keeping secrets from them. It's never been my place to tell them what kind of relationship I have - had - with Miki, but still... They're like family to me.
The door opens slowly, and before I know it, I'm being ushered into the entrance by Miki's mom. She takes my bags, her movements quick and seemingly planned, and stunned, I take my shoes off and step up into the house. She hands my bags to someone I don't recognise. As he makes off with them, Miki's mom turns to look at me, studying me carefully. I guess she hasn't seen me in a while. I can't remember the last time I was in Hokkaido in this world. As she looks at me, I take a good look at her. She has Miki's eyes and cheekbones. It must be painful for her to look in the mirror and see her daughter in herself. I'm sure she's noticed. I certainly have, and it's painful for me.
"You look younger with that hair," she says to me, her voice sounding nothing like Miki's, which is a good thing.
"I... thank you?" I say unsurely.
What is she talking about? I wonder. She must be shocked and saying whatever comes to her mind.
"Thank you for coming all the way here on such short notice, and I'm so sorry for all the trouble," she continues more quietly.
I give her a look that tells her she doesn't have to thank me and that she shouldn't apologise for something that's out of her control.
"We have a room ready for you. If you'd like..."
She keeps speaking, unaware that I'm no longer paying attention.
A room? They've prepared a room for me. I had a feeling they would, but I really don't want to impose. I can just as easily go stay in a hotel. It's not as if I haven't before. And to be perfectly frank, staying in this house that Miki grew up in might be too much to handle come nightfall and the memories start coming out to play in my head.
I try to decline politely, but I'm ignored. I find myself dragged upstairs to a bedroom. My bags have already been brought up, and I freeze as I realise where I am.
This is Miki's old room.
I put my purse down on the bed, look at Miki's mom blankly, and then I walk out of the room, leaning against a wall down the hallway. She comes and joins me.
"I really appreciate you doing this for me, but I can't stay here. In there. I can't sleep in that room," I tell her honestly.
She looks at me, pained.
"Do you know how much it hurts me to open up that room and walk into it?" she asks me softly. "Do you know how much it hurts me to let someone other than my baby stay in that room?"
I bow my head down, and all my own feelings of doubt are replaced by guilt for my unintended invasion.
"But if it's you, I don't feel that because I know Miki wouldn't mind if you stayed there. In fact, she'd have it no other way. So please stay."
I've never had this kind of conversation with Miki's mother. We've always had a good, friendly relationship, but we've never discussed anything about our deep feelings and opinions. I guess death can build bridges across gaps of age, distance, time... anything.
"I... but..."
I can't think of anything good to say to decline again. It really doesn't make sense for me to say I can't stay. She's made it clear that I'm welcome. She's even brought Miki's opinion into it, and I know that she's right.
I finally settle with a nod and a grateful look, but deep down inside, I'm scared. I don't want to sleep in there alone. Ghosts might not haunt me, but my own mind surely will. I don't think I'll get any sleep.
"I'm sorry if you're busy downstairs," I say to Miki's mother. "I came a little early..."
"Don't worry. They can handle things without me for a while. Would you like to take a seat?" she asks, gesturing towards the room.
We walk back there together, and we sit side-by-side on the bed. I look around the room, and all I can see are Miki's old things. There's not much left in here, but enough to give it that special Miki feel.
"Thank you for always taking care of our daughter," Miki's mom says after I've surveyed the place.
She grasps my hand and holds it tightly.
No, I want to tell her. Miki took care of me.
But she's continuing, so I hold it in.
"I know that she never told us and that she was secretive about it, but sh-"
"It's okay," I interrupt her quickly. I don't want her to say anything awkward right now. I don't think I could handle it. I want things to be normal between us, not weird. "You don't have to say anything."
"I just wanted to say that she thought of you as her family in Tokyo."
Oh.
Oh...
I begin to cry. Everything hits me. Being in this town, being in this house - this room - and talking to her mother.
"Thank you," I say, choked up. "She was my family, too."
She squeezes my hand a bit just like my mother would do, and I suddenly feel like I'm twelve years old again. I want to curl up into her arms and be hugged like a little child because she's the closest thing I have to a mother right now. My own mother is hundreds of kilometres away, oblivious to what's happened and oblivious to my pain. I know that she'll hear the news eventually and be upset that I didn't tell her, but I'm sick of telling people what's happened to Miki. Telling two people was two people too many.
"Was she happy?"
A good question. With a mother and a child separated by so much distance, feelings can be hidden, especially when it's Miki. She's a professional hider.
"Yes. Very happy," I assure her.
We sit like that for a while until someone calls out and asks for some help in the kitchen. I assume it's some family member I've never met.
Miki's mother excuses herself, and she tells me to come downstairs when I'm ready. I sit alone on the bed and stare at the desk. It looks like a student's desk. A tin can with Disney pens and pencils stored in it, and Hello Kitty pad of paper, a calculator and a ruler...
I lie back on the bed and roll onto my stomach, burying my face in the covers. I can feel her presence beside me. She has her arm across my back and she's mimicking my pose, face flat in the covers.
"Stop moping. Get up, you lazy butt."
No. I don't want to get up. I want to sit here with my eyes closed and forget the world. Lose myself.
"If you just sit here, you'll never get anything done. You'll never find what you're looking for."
She's right. I'll never find out who killed her if I sit here and drown in my sorrow. But it's too hard to get up...
"Listen. If you get up, I'll make you the tastiest breakfast you've ever eaten."
Bribery. That's how she gets her way with me. Or tries to.
But how can you cook me breakfast? I ask her in my head. You're dead.
"Up here. In this afterworld. Don't believe in it? I don't care. Or maybe I'll be reincarnated as a chef and one day when you're sixty, you'll walk into my restaurant and eat something delicious I've cooked. I promise you."
A promise from Miki after death.
No, a promise made by my own wild imagination. What in the world am I doing? Letting a scenario run through my head and fantasising that Miki is talking to me from some sort of heaven? This is ridiculous. If I tell Shibata this, she'll think I'm going mad. I think I'm going mad.
I get up from the bed and go downstairs to escape from the torture of my memories.
-
See this?! SEE THIS?! its a tear...yeah that last part really start to fiddle with my heart strings..
Mikis dead and Aya is lonely. When that happens, you know something isnt right with the world.
-
And so begins a series of chapters that will be difficult to write.
It's just as hard for us to read it dude. It pulls at heartstrings I never knew I had.
-
So when Aya died, Miki died, and when Miki dies, Aya goes crazy. Seems like a fair trade.
What am I saying? You're evil.
Jeez, I can't wait for the next update.
-
That was so depressing... especially when Miki's mom showed Aya to Miki's room...
I think I'm gonna go read the chapter where Aya finds Miki again (from Love infinity). That'll make me feel better..
-
How could I have missed the latest updates?!? Honestly...
Again, there's the surrealistic feeling of things, in a really good way. I think I'm either getting used to it now, or it wasn't as freaky as before.
I guess the following chapters will be hard to write because of the emotional side of the story, but I don't think you'll have that much trouble after all.
-
Oh, good. It's surrealistic to you. To me, too. And to Aya. I'm taking this story really slowly (I've kept your words in mind from last story (about that one seeming rushed)), but I may have dragged it out for too long here. I'm not sure. There's still lots to go. I hope I'm not boring people by repeating things.
Aya going crazy is kind of evil of me, huh? Ah well. All for the sake of drama... Thank you all for reading.
Chapter 20
I sit and watch Miki's Aunt Keiko prepare some sort of dish. I greet various other family members that come into the kitchen, but I don't go and sit with them in the living room because I feel awkward. I haven't met most of them before, and while I have no problem meeting new people and getting along with them, right now I don't want to talk to anybody. They're all going to ask all these questions about me- where I'm from, what my interests are, and how I know Miki - and I just don't want to get into all that. I don't want to sit there and pretend everything's okay, because it's certainly not.
So I sit there, observing quietly.
Aunt Keiko tells me that the family is going to her place for dinner tonight. She invites me to come along. I give her a vague answer. I really don't want to go, but I may have no choice if the whole family is going and this house is left abandoned.
Miki's mom walks in and out of the kitchen, spreading her time between her sister-in-law and the rest of the family. When Aunt Keiko is out of the kitchen for a moment, she mentions to me - as if she knows it's what's on my mind - that I don't have to go to the family dinner. She says her husband is going, but she herself is not. I tell her I want to stay at home with her.
I pass the rest of the afternoon in mental isolation from everyone else in the house. Once dinner time comes, everyone leaves. Everyone except Miki's mom. We sit together and eat a simple and quiet meal that we've prepared together. Once we're finished, the conversation starts.
"They said they still don't know who the killer is," she says.
I nod.
"They're looking for the person or people now."
"But why? Why would someone do this?" she asks. "I don't understand."
I'm with her on that. She's going through the same thing I'm going through. The disbelief. The lack of understanding. Is it a good thing that we don't know why evil minds do what they do? Maybe if we could understand, we could find acceptance. Or maybe it's better not to understand. Not to poison our minds with such things.
Miki's mother turns very serious and looks at me with piercing eyes.
"Was she... was she mixed up in anything? I mean..."
I know it kills her to ask, but she has to. She has to entertain every single possibility because nothing makes sense to her.
"No. She wasn't. Or if she was, I didn't know about it, and believe me, I'd know about it," I reply firmly.
Miki was not mixed up with drugs, stolen goods, gangs, prostitution... nothing of the sort. I know that. She could never be. She is - was - Miki. A bad girl, but not a bad bad girl. A cute one. A nice one. One that I could understand half the time, and the other half I wasn't sure whether I really had to understand her or not because we just clicked.
And she was murdered.
I see stars and I clench my hand into a fist, but I keep it hidden under the table. Bouts of rage should not be displayed publicly. It suggests imbalance.
"Did you see her before they kil- before...?" Miki's mom asks me, choking on that ugly word.
I nod again.
"The day before."
"Was she... What was she like when you saw her?"
That's a difficult question to answer, but I owe it to her mother to be completely honest.
"As wonderful a friend as ever," I say softly. "She had some worries, though, and was going to talk about them with me later. Other than that, she seemed okay."
We don't speak for some time. We sit there, drinking in the strange atmosphere we've created by talking about a murdered girl. It's surreal. Nothing could have ever prepared me for this. When I got thrown into that other, strange world, it was different. I had no evidence that Miki was dead. She was just missing, and I eventually found her alive and well. In this case, though, I have plenty of evidence that she's dead, the biggest piece being her body.
I never thought I'd outlive her, but then I start to wonder. What did I expect in the future? I've never thought about death until now. However, if I ever had before, I probably would have imagined us dying at the exact same time, or at least close enough so that one of us wouldn't miss the other for too long. Maybe it would have been best if we both got killed simultaneously. Maybe in a traffic accident or a plane crash.
What am I thinking??
I have to stop thinking about death now. She's dead. I'm alive. My purpose now is to find out why she's dead. To find out why we didn't die together like we were supposed to...
I can't stand this silence anymore. I can't stand listening to myself think.
I get up and start clearing the table. Miki's mom tells me to stop and that she'll do it later, but I mumble something about having to keep distracted. She gets up and helps me. Together we wash the dishes without a word between us, and then we go and sit back down at the table to watch television.
Watching TV with Miki's mom. I don't think I've ever done that with just her. It's different. Watching TV with a parent other than my own is not something usual, is it? But what about when someone has died? Does that cancel out all other weirdness? Is this normal now?
Who knows.
Neither one of us has any revelations in the next few hours. We sit there watching TV, we talk a tiny bit here and there - just small talk - and then I excuse myself with a genuine yawn, saying I'm exhausted and am going to get ready for bed. Miki's mother launches into housewife mode and shows me where the towels are so I can take a bath, and where the extra blankets are in case I get cold at night. I let her show me where everything is, and I'm struck by how much I already know. The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. Miki does things a lot like her mom does, and I find it comforting and heartbreaking at the same time. I don't want to be reminded of her.
I thank her mom graciously, and then she's off to distract herself while I take a bath and put on my pyjamas.
It's colder upstairs, but once I get under the covers, I warm up. The wonderful thing about Hokkaido is that people really know how to keep warm in the winter. It's a perfected art form. The Fujimoto family has not cut corners, and it's invested in good quality sheets and blankets for the whole family.
I lie under those warms covers, though, and I start to shiver. What comes next is what I have been expecting and dreading.
I remember the last time I was here with Miki. It was a year ago. Some cousin of Miki's got married and she came up for the wedding. I joined her the next day, and we had a little vacation here for one day and then in Sapporo for the next two. We stayed in this room together. Her mother apologised so much that there was no extra bedding since some family members were staying over because of the wedding, but I told her over and over again that it was okay. Like, really okay. We slept together- beside each other. We didn't do anything because having the entire family in the house is just creepy, and it's just all sorts of wrong. We did what we used to do way back when we were first getting to know each other - we lay there and talked - whispered - about nothing and everything.
The next morning her mom had come in to wake us up because my cell phone alarm clock had gone off three times and we'd ignored it each time. She was getting sick of hearing the loud music. She walked in calling out Miki's name, and she found us sleeping, wrapped around each other like vines around a pole. We were foggy-headed and slow-moving, so we didn't quite realise what was going on, but when we saw her mother and I felt Miki hugging me from behind, we freaked out and jumped apart. Her mother, however, didn't notice. She was having a fit of cuteness. Apparently, seeing her daughter and her daughter's best friend hugging in the morning like that was the cutest thing ever. She started to reminisce about her old sleepovers, and so Miki and I lay there, trying to be as far apart as possible, our faces no doubt the colour of tomatoes, hearts beating quickly from the surprise and fear of almost being caught in a compromising position. No, we were caught in a compromising position, but the thought of it being anything more than just unintentional nocturnal movement was never a possibility to Miki's mother.
We're so dumb. We were so dumb.
Goddamnit, stop thinking in the present tense, Aya.
I don't want to think in the past tense, though. It makes me feel sick.
I close my eyes and try to sleep.
"We're cooler than destiny."
I know, Miki. I know we are. But why did this happen? If we're so cool, if we're so smart, if we're so great... why are you dead?
"'Home is where the heart is!'"
Oh really, Miki? Then my heart's followed you to where you are.
Where are you? Are you cold? I am...
"Don't worry about me, Aya. I'm fine."
No, you're not. And neither am I.
A tear works its way out of my eye and slides down my cheek slowly, falling onto the pillow.
I'm pathetic. I'm lying in a dead girl's bed and hearing her voice say things she's said to me before and choosing to treat them as things she's trying to say to me now.
I'd better sharpen up by tomorrow. Tomorrow is the wake. The next day, the funeral.
I keep my eyes shut and run through all the things I brought with me in my bags. I have appropriate clothing to wear for both events. But no matter how much clothes I put on, I'm still naked.
-
Oh, good. It's surrealistic to you. To me, too. And to Aya. I'm taking this story really slowly (I've kept your words in mind from last story (about that one seeming rushed)), but I may have dragged it out for too long here. I'm not sure. There's still lots to go. I hope I'm not boring people by repeating things.
Dude, if anyone here says any of your stories are boring, Shiba-chan can take a gun like she has in your sig and shoot them. ;D
Miki's mother turns very serious and looks at me with piercing eyes.
"Was she... was she mixed up in anything? I mean..."
I know it kills her to ask, but she has to. She has to entertain every single possibility because nothing makes sense to her.
Indeed, heaven forbid it was actually true, but if it was, at least if would be something a bit more concrete to go on.
We slept together- beside each other. We didn't do anything because having the entire family in the house is just creepy, and it's just all sorts of wrong.
Under other circumstances, I would/could have said that that scenario was kinky.
I keep my eyes shut and run through all the things I brought with me in my bags. I have appropriate clothing to wear for both events. But no matter how much clothes I put on, I'm still naked.
Because Miki's not there with her.
:k-sad:
-
Ah, not boring? I hope. Thanks, man!
Yeah, the whole family-in-the-house thing is kind of kinky. But I'm saving that for another story. Hahaha.
Here we go with the deep stuff.
Chapter 21
"Rise and shine, lazy."
I open my eyes - or I think I do - and shut them immediately with a groan. I'm still dreaming. I clear my mind and try again. This time I see nobody. I'm lying on my stomach, my pillow nowhere even near me. I feel like I've been hacked to bits and then reassembled haphazardly by a quack.
I roll up and out of bed, and I get dressed. I go downstairs to see Miki's mom sitting alone in the living room with a cup of tea. I join her wordlessly, and she gets up to pour me a cup. She asks if I want breakfast, but I decline. I don't feel hungry.
She gives me the details about the wake - where the mortuary hall is and at what time it starts. She says I can get a ride with her brother. He'll be stopping by to pick up some other family members, but she has to go early and tend to some other details.
I go upstairs and lay out the clothes I'm going to wear to the wake. I then grab my jacket and tell Miki's mom I'm going for a walk.
I step out into the crisp air and I'm thankful I have my winter jacket with me. A gust of wind comes and my hair and skirt whip around me, making it difficult to see and walk for a moment.
I don't think. I just walk. I'm not surprised when I find myself at the restaurant where Baachan, Miki, and I cooked delicious meals together for two months. It looks the same as it did in the other world. I want to go inside, but it doesn't open until noon. I hang around for a bit, trying to catch a glimpse of anyone I know, but I have no luck. Maybe they don't even exist in this world, although I suspect they do.
I wander away, tracing a familiar path. I find myself heading out of town and in the direction of the hills. It's what Miki and I did for those two months of extra time I was given with her. Our treks out into the snow-covered hills, our snowball fights, our wild sheep chases...
Before I get to the bridge that will take me further into non-civilised territory, I turn back. There are too many ghosts to face and not enough time. I have to go back to the Fujimoto home and get dressed in the clothes I've prepared. It takes me quite some time to get back because I walk slowly, trying to enjoy my freedom.
Miki's parents leave me with Aunt Keiko and her two sons. I sit upstairs, alone, looking through what little Miki has left in her room. Mostly old school books and informational pamphlets about various club events. I thumb through her English and mathematics notebooks, and never have the two subjects been more enthralling to me than they are now. Full of self-correcting red pen marks, I imagine these books have seen that adorable, concentrated stare of hers when she gets into something and focuses all her attention on that one thing.
She's so easy to surprise when she's doing that. I do it all the time. I sneak up beside her and touch her arm and she twitches. She doesn't make big movements because she really is a cool, collected person. However, that tiny little twitch is enough to prove that I've caught her unawares. She gets annoyed when her concentration has been broken, and I love those glares she gives me. Those angry looks. The foul mood she gets into. I love it because it's all hyperbole. Delicious exaggeration. It's her way of flirting with me. It always works.
No.
Not is. Was.
Not does. Did.
It's all in the past. Never again. Never, ever again.
Some sick person has - or people have - made sure that she'll never be surprised again. She'll never pretend to get annoyed again. Never scowl at me angrily again.
And when I find that person or those people...
RING RING.
I fall out of my thoughts and grab for my phone, checking the display. It's Shibata.
"Hi," I say quickly, checking the time to see I have some left before I'm picked up and driven away.
"Aya-chan, how is everything? Is this a bad time?"
"Everything's, well, as good as can be. And no, it's a perfect time," I reply, glad that she has caught me before I black out from rage or something.
"I have some news for you."
My heart skips a beat.
"It's about the café."
"What is it?" I demand.
"I met the man," Shibata says plainly. "The main mystery man Miki-chan was meeting with. I talked to him."
A flood of questions spills out of my mouth, and Shibata tries to answer them.
"Please listen. I'll tell you all I know."
"Okay."
Just like Ochiai.
"I was sitting there just now reading a book and he walked in. Ochiai-san sent me a note through a waitress telling me that he was the one. I kept reading and minding my own business when he came up to me."
"Wait, he approached you?" I ask, bewildered.
I thought it would have to be the other way around.
"Mmhmm. He commented on the book I was reading. It turns out he's read it, too. He wasn't lying about it, either. We discussed it."
"You discussed literature with Miki's killer?" I blow up.
What the hell was this girl thinking?!
"Aya-chan, we don't know that he did it," she says diplomatically. "And yes, we discussed literature."
"H-how can you? What... How...?"
"Please listen. All we did was chat for about twenty minutes, and then he said he had to go."
"That's it??" I explode again. "You just let him go?!"
There's a hard silence on the line. A scolding silence from Shibata telling me to be quiet and listen. I hush up, a little embarrassed.
"He asked if we could meet again. I told him that I hang out at the café these days since I work nearby. It's not entirely a lie. I told him he could find me there, and he said he looked forward to talking to me again."
I can't believe it. This guy that possibly killed Miki wants to go out on a date with Shibata.
On the other hand, we now have our suspect in our grasp. Or at least Shibata's grasp. If anyone can turn on the charm, it's that former Melon. She could have him eating out of the palm of her hand within one hour.
"Shiba-chan, I, uh, don't know what to say."
It's dangerous, stupid, exactly what I want... We're playing tag with a cobra, and there's no telling what's going to happen.
"Don't say anything. Just stay away from the café and let me handle it. I'm going to get to know him and see if I can get a name or a job description or something out of him. I'll see if he mentions Miki-chan at all."
I feel so grateful right now that she's putting her life on the line. Overwhelmed, actually.
"Shiba-chan."
"Yeah?"
"When's this going to end?" I ask sadly.
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.
"I don't know. Just hang in there."
Someone downstairs calls for me. We're leaving.
"I have to go. The wake starts soon," I say quickly.
There's a heavy pause as Shibata remembers what I'm here for.
"Stay strong, Aya-chan. I'll see you in a few days?"
"Yeah. Thanks for calling. See you."
We hang up and I walk downstairs slowly. When I see the car, I freeze.
I don't want to go. I'll throw a fit. I'll lock myself in the bathroom. I'll tie myself to the door. I do not want to go to the wake. I don't want to see her body. I don't want to accept this harsh reality. It's like my entire sense of happiness before this whole mess has been lied to. That probably doesn't even make sense, but feelings don't make sense.
Aunt Keiko seems to notice that I've stopped in my tracks, and she links her arm around mine and guides me to the car gently. We get in, and I sit there, trembling inside, stoic on the outside.
"Is this your first wake?" she asks me sympathetically.
I shake my head. I've been to two before, both for family members. One I was close to. The other I never knew.
We don't speak for the rest of the drive.
The wake is a wake. Nothing out of the ordinary happens. As I kneel in front of the casket to pay my respects, my mind can barely believe what I'm doing. I bow down, close my eyes and make my final promise to her. This time directly to her. Only a wooden panel separates her body from mine.
I'm not going to say goodbye to you.
I wish I could bring you back. I wish you were here.
Thank you for everything. You know. Everything.
I will find whoever did this to you. I will find him and make sure he never does anything like this again.
I love you so much, but you already know that. Don't forget it. I won't.
I finish up the standard ritual which can't possibly mean as much as my thoughts towards her do.
Once it's time, the priest does his job. We sit there and listen.
The thing that chills me is not the priest's voice chanting sutras. It's the fact that I am kneeling in the room with Miki's body right up at the front. I stare at the casket the whole time. There's a large, smiling picture of her over it, but I can't look at it. It's not the real Miki. The real Miki is inside that wooden box.
And in my heart.
When we finally get up, I realise I haven't cried the entire time. I'm too upset to cry. I'm angry. I'm desperate.
I excuse myself and go to the washroom while the food and table are prepared. I run the water and wash my hands, drying them off quickly before leaving and stepping outside. There are a few men out for a smoke, but I avoid them. I round the corner of the building and stand against the wall, my arms crossed for warmth.
That's when the tears come. They're not wild tears. I can still breathe normally. They're more tears of reality hitting.
Miki is dead. Tomorrow her body will be burned into grey ashes and I'll never look at her face again except in pictures. I'll be able to hold what's left of her in an urn in one hand.
No, Miki wasn't a body. I have to remind myself of that. She was a mind. She was a soul. She was part of me. In the end, she had a very good life. She had me, I had her. She had a good job, good friends, and good dreams.
She was the one damned thing that I could rely on in my life.
And she was ripped away.
I start to cry a little harder because I realise something else:
I've started thinking of her in the past tense.
-
I've started thinking of her in the past tense.
My heart just died here. I didn't cry though. Just. Didn't. But I was sad.
Excellent chapter as always. Really looks into the kind of torment Aya is going through. Good job.
-
Oh, good. It's surrealistic to you. To me, too. And to Aya. I'm taking this story really slowly (I've kept your words in mind from last story (about that one seeming rushed)), but I may have dragged it out for too long here. I'm not sure. There's still lots to go. I hope I'm not boring people by repeating things.
Oh, I said something that smart? ;D
Shame on me, I tend to forget what I say to others, probably because I don't think much about my own words.
I'm not in the least bored, but don't know about the others. It does seem like it'll take more from you (and from us, to keep reading and waiting!), but I think it'll be worthy. I do get anxious, though. Every new chapter only elongates the agony.
But don't think I'm complaining! I sort of like being dragged along in this emotional roller coaster. [It makes me feel alive...]
The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. Miki does things a lot like her mom does, and I find it comforting and heartbreaking at the same time. I don't want to be reminded of her.
Indeed, that's exactly how it is. very observant and clever of you, to include such trivial details in the story. It provides a sense of reality despite all the weirdness. ;)
Some sick person has - or people have - made sure that she'll never be surprised again. She'll never pretend to get annoyed again. Never scowl at me angrily again.
OTN1...? :p
I've started thinking of her in the past tense.
I have to agree with Estrea here. It's such a killer line.
-
Yeah, the whole family-in-the-house thing is kind of kinky. But I'm saving that for another story. Hahaha.
I'm sensing a new entry for a slash challenge. (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c340/J-F-C/buttrock.gif)
Before I get to the bridge that will take me further into non-civilised territory, I turn back. There are too many ghosts to face and not enough time.
I don't know if I'd even have the guts to face them.
"I met the man," Shibata says plainly. "The main mystery man Miki-chan was meeting with. I talked to him."
...
"I was sitting there just now reading a book and he walked in. Ochiai-san sent me a note through a waitress telling me that he was the one. I kept reading and minding my own business when he came up to me."
"Wait, he approached you?" I ask, bewildered.
I thought it would have to be the other way around.
So Shiba-chan has met him, and he approached her like he approached Miki. Whatever scheme/plan they had going with Miki, perhaps he still needs someone to see it through, and right now it looks like he may be thinking Shiba-chan can take Miki's place.
"You discussed literature with Miki's killer?" I blow up.
What the hell was this girl thinking?!
"Aya-chan, we don't know that he did it," she says diplomatically. "And yes, we discussed literature."
...
"He asked if we could meet again. I told him that I hang out at the café these days since I work nearby. It's not entirely a lie. I told him he could find me there, and he said he looked forward to talking to me again."
It's a REALLY good thing that it's Shiba-chan doing this, as she's able to keep a level head. If it was Aya she probably would have launched into a public tirade right then and there, accussing him of being involved. And if THAT happened they can kiss goodbye any chance of finding out what really happened.
On the other hand, we now have our suspect in our grasp. Or at least Shibata's grasp. If anyone can turn on the charm, it's that former Melon. She could have him eating out of the palm of her hand within one hour.
...
"Don't say anything. Just stay away from the café and let me handle it. I'm going to get to know him and see if I can get a name or a job description or something out of him. I'll see if he mentions Miki-chan at all."
Again, it's a good thing that it's Shiba-chan doing this. In order to work, the plan needs someone who can quickly think, adapt, and improvise. Right now Aya's too emotionally involved/distraught to be that person.
Tomorrow her body will be burned into grey ashes and I'll never look at her face again except in pictures. I'll be able to hold what's left of her in an urn in one hand.
They're going to cremate her? In some ways that's even creepier/more depressing than the whole wake/funeral itself. The fact that Miki will still "be there"...just...cryptic.
I start to cry a little harder because I realise something else:
I've started thinking of her in the past tense.
In a way, it's good that this has happened. It shows that, as hard as it may be, Aya has started to accept that Miki is gone. That's the first step to being able to move on with her life and live. It's what Miki would have wanted.
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My God, this is an extraordinary fic, excellent protrayal of emotions and realistic images pop in my head, like a sad yet touching movie running down like an endless trail of darkness and light....dammit i just confused myself :confused: well the point is, i love where this fic is going, and please update asap =) ;D
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I start to cry a little harder because I realise something else:
I've started thinking of her in the past tense.
OTN1! Now you really get all my tears.
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whoa, just missed your updates of 3 new chapters!
aya recalling miki's lines from the past really touched me. it's like...magnifys miki being a big and natural part of aya. shibata risking her life is also a good moment of friendship. i really hope nothing happens to her. please dun. . . ..
and like the others...your last line "i've started thinking of her in the past tense" was definitely heartbreaking!
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So depressing! I dunno, in response to what you said before, it doesn't drag on, but it has a feeling of dragging... a necessary feeling... yeah? It's hard to explain, but it's kind of like a block of depressing necessity to the story. These last few chapters have been really good... in a depressing, heart-string pulling sort of way =\...
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OTN1...? :p
Bingo. That's right. I'm the killer. Hahaha! They're going to cremate her? In some ways that's even creepier/more depressing than the whole wake/funeral itself. The fact that Miki will still "be there"...just...cryptic.
Yup, in the good old Buddhist way. ....dammit i just confused myself :confused:
And yet I understood you perfectly. Thank you!
Edhead999, that makes sense about the dragging. Maybe it really comes out when Aya asks Shiba-chan, "When's this going to end?" She feels the dragging and just wants it to be over with. Or maybe I'm pulling something out of JFC's butt again.
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Or maybe I'm pulling something out of JFC's butt again.
It lives to serve. ;D
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What everyone else said, especially about the last line. Total tear factory, right here.
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Chapter 22
I eventually dry my tears and go back inside, but I'm even quieter than before. I sit at the end of a table and eat quietly - or I pretend to. "Eating" mostly consists of me rearranging my food in ways to make it look like I've eaten some of it. Nobody bothers me or forces me into conversation. I think I give off a bad vibe. I must seem like a cold-hearted celebrity bitch with no manners. However, most of the people there know I was close to Miki. We did work together in the public eye for years. Maybe they will keep that in mind before they judge me.
We get home very late that night. Lots of people are drunk as we leave, and I feel bitterness inside me start to take root. Do these people even care about her? Are they here just for food and drink? For show?
I crawl under the covers just past one and try to forget all about the "caring" guests.
I sleep until seven o'clock, but I have a strange dream. Strange as in disturbing. Miki's in it.
She's alive again and we're hanging out at some cafeteria at an indeterminate time in our lives. It could be last year. It could be a year from now. We're having a conversation about something mundane – umbrellas, I think - when two nondescript men come in and ask her to go with them. She says she will, but that she has one more thing to say to me. She walks up beside me and bends down to my ear, cupping her hands around it to whisper a secret to me. Instead of speaking, though, she slides something on the table in front of me. It's a piece of paper with something written on it in her handwriting.
I did it for you.
That's what the paper reads, but as I read it, I can hear her voice echo the words in my head. She walks towards the men, and they flank her as they walk out of the cafeteria together. I want to get up and stop her, but I'm frozen in place. The only movement I can make is twisting my head from side to side. I watch helplessly as she walks out the door and disappears into a crowd of people. She doesn't turn back once.
I wake up instantly to the generic ring tone of my cell phone alarm clock.
I remember every single detail of the dream, and I shiver. I don't quite know what to make of it. Maybe it's all my fault. I know she's told me in that letter of hers not blame myself, but I can't shake the feeling that if I hadn't existed, she wouldn't have been killed like that. If we'd never been friends in the first place, maybe...
I try to push it out of my mind.
Stupid thoughts, I think. Not productive at all.
The dream doesn't mean anything.
What's important is today. Today is the day of the funeral and cremation.
I get dressed right away and go downstairs, where I finally eat a meal. It's been a day since I last ate something substantial. Miki's mom gives me the details of the funeral, and I'm filled with a sense of déjà vu as just the two of us sit at the table in the living room and drink tea.
Miki's dad comes in and sits down. He doesn't speak a word. He's barely spoken since I've been in Hokkaido. He's always been a calm, friendly man, and we've always chatted a little during my visits here. I understand his pain and his silence, though. I don't take offence. I prefer the silence anyway.
The funeral is early. Nine o'clock. I go with Aunt Keiko again. This time I don't hesitate to get into the car. I don't feel much. Just emptiness and a dull pain at the back of my head, which is either a headache starting to set in or just general trauma packed in a temporary holding pen. A dealing technique to get me through the next few difficult hours.
The funeral happens. I may as well not be there. I don't pay attention to a thing that is said and done. I just stare at the casket. I even catch myself staring at Miki's picture for a while. The picture is from the last time she visited home, which was just last spring. You can see green trees behind her. Her eyes sparkle with sunlight. She's so happy. No idea what's to come.
Once the service is over and various family members are in tears, there's a lot of action. Friends and family say goodbye to each other. Miki's mom, dad, other family, and I head to the crematorium. They've insisted I come along. Miki's siblings have been unable to attend the funeral because they are snowed in in Alaska. A beautiful vacation that I'm sure has turned into a disastrous nightmare for them. Unable to attend their own little sister's funeral...
I get a chill when I step into the large, heated building. Bodies are burned here. Miki's about to be burned.
We're ushered into a large room. The casket is there. We're told we have a few more minutes. I look at the casket. I really look at it. I can almost see through it. I can see her cold, lifeless body sitting there. Her eyes glassy, her hair stringy, her skin so dried that nothing could ever fix it.
Suddenly my mind goes haywire. Something snaps. The holding pen explodes open, and my feelings rush out like charging animals. I start to cry. I put a hand up over my mouth to muffle the sounds I'm making. Every muscle of mine is tense, ready to run and steal her body back so that it won't be burned to a crisp. My body screams out to me, begging me to let it have its way.
No! I scream in my mind as I see her casket being slid into the house of fire that will consume her in a hellish blaze.
Don't burn her. Don't make her disappear any more than she already has.
Don't make it real
Before I can see the whole casket pushed in, I bolt out of the door and go outside. I take a deep breath of cold air and let it out as a strangled sob. I stagger off to the side of the building, not caring if there are people outside watching me. I sit down on the ground, my back against the cold, hard wall, and I bury my face in my hands.
I sit there alone, crying, shivering, sniffing. The family comes out hours later. Aunt Keiko looks relieved to see me safe and sound. She takes me into her arms and helps me back to her car. I'm blank by this time, my tears dried up on my cheeks, my makeup run beyond repair. From the car, I see Miki's father holding an urn, and I know that while I've been outside crying, the family has been picking through her ashes and remaining bones. I avert my eyes quickly.
The sight has struck something in me. A large gong rings out as a page ends. It signals the end of a chapter. The new reality starts now.
We drive home in absolute silence. There are no further celebrations. Nobody wants to eat or drink.
When I get back, I go straight to Miki's room and pack up my bags. I place a call to a travel agency and book myself the last seat on a flight back to Tokyo that evening. It's the most last minute plane ride I've ever taken. I suppose this is the kind of thing Shiba-chan did when she came home from Spain.
I go downstairs and thank the family, telling them I have to leave. They insist that I rest for one more night, but I tell them I have to attend to some urgent business.
I need to leave the house as soon as possible. I can't spend another minute in that house with that urn. I refuse to look at it. I barely know what it looks like. It's Miki's new skin, and I hate it.
Aunt Keiko talks me into accepting a drive to the train station from her husband. I agree to that, so I wait as someone brings my bags out to the car and I say goodbye to the family.
I tell Miki's mom I'll be in touch soon. There are still things we have to sort out. I've been given charge of Miki's possessions, and I'm sure some of them will be sent back here. She hugs me, and it makes me feel even sadder.
I wave goodbye to Aunt Keiko, and I walk out of the house.
I get into the car and am greeted by a surprise. Uncle Shun isn't there. In his place is Miki's dad. I hesitate for a moment, thinking I've made a mistake, but he takes off down the road before I can get out. I suppose this is the way it will be.
A minute later, he speaks.
"When's your flight?"
"Seven-thirty," I reply.
There's another spell of silence. I want to say something, but I can't think of anything appropriate. I've already expressed my condolences. As we drive on, I feel more and more depressed.
"You remind me of her."
He speaks the words quietly as though they're a fleeting thought that he hasn't meant to voice aloud.
"I... do?" I ask, at a loss.
Nobody can say that Miki and I were all that similar. We shared a lot of jokes, and of course we liked a lot of the same things; but our personalities and our behaviour, both public and private, were quite different. A ten-minute conversation with me, followed by a ten-minute conversation with Miki, would reveal two very different people.
"Everything that she liked and cherished in her life reminds me of her. You were her closest friend," he says in the same tone.
It's sweet that he's telling me this. Maybe he thinks I never knew that. Maybe he just wants to be saying something.
"I always wondered, though, if she loved her life and friends in Tokyo more than she loved her family in Hokkaido."
My heart sinks. It's such a hard thing to think about for any of us who have taken off and moved to a new place far away from home. We've established whole new and different lives in a new city. It's a struggle, and I've always wondered what the answer is. What would I do for her?
Anything, of course.
But would I choose Miki over my mother? My father? My sisters? Would she do the same and drop her mom and dad to come to me?
I often want to say "yes." I'd do anything for Miki, and she'd do anything for me. But if I get into details, I don't know what to think. If I could only save one - Miki or my mom - what would I do?
Sometimes I make myself choose. The times that I do choose, I always choose Miki. Then I feel guilty. How can I think that about my own mother? She raised me and let me go and pursue my dream, and she still loves me so much. Maybe I'm a terrible person to think that Miki is the one I'd save, not my mother. Soul over flesh and blood. How horrible.
But I would feel equally bad about the opposite. I would never, ever have wanted to abandon Miki. I would never have made the choice to let her die to save someone else. Or a million someone elses.
So maybe that's my answer. My cold-hearted but passionate answer. I'd save Miki.
Would she have done the same for me?
I'll never know, but my gut instinct tells me her answer would have been the same as mine. She would have chosen me over anyone else.
Of course, that's not something I can tell her father. She loved him very much. From climbing trees together to going skating, they had a solid relationship. I've heard stories about all the things they did together.
It's just that we were - no, still are - part of each other, so when one of us dies, the other can't live on properly.
That's what's happening now.
"I think she loved all parts of her life," I say out loud. "She always talked to me about Hokkaido and her family. So don't worry, Fujimoto-san."
I can see his face relax just a bit. He doesn't look happy (nobody is happy at this time), but he looks relieved
We don't talk anymore for the rest of the drive. We pull up in front of the station. I thank him very much, and I get out to retrieve my bags from the trunk. I'm about to say my final thank you when he calls my name and urges me to come up to the window. I go over.
"You, too. You're all she ever talked about."
He says it not accusingly, but with curiosity. As if he's trying to figure out Miki's mind.
"Me?"
"You, all you Tokyo people, her life there."
I smile softly for the first time.
"I'm not from Tokyo."
I know that's not his point, and he knows I know. For the first time, though, he also smiles. I don't know what we're smiling about. Maybe it's because in ways, Miki and I were exactly the same. Two girls from small towns on opposite sides of Tokyo, going into the big city and bonding, looking out for each other, taking care of each other.
"Take care of yourself," he says.
This is goodbye for now. I thank him again for everything he and his family have done for me, and I walk off to catch my express train to Sapporo.
The whole trip to the airport, I think about Miki's dad and Miki. I imagine them playing in the snow together, raking leaves together, and laughing together under the summer sun. I feel warm inside, and I'm happy to finally have that feeling.
A cloud ruins my mood. It is both literal and metaphorical. Freezing rain starts to fall outside, but a storm also starts to brew within me. I imagine snow stained with specks of blood that increase until the snow is dark red. That's what happens when killers are on the loose.
During my wait at the airport, I mail Shibata. I tell her I'll be landing at Haneda airport just before midnight and that I'll visit her tomorrow. She mails me back a rushed message. She's on her way out, but she has something to talk to me about tomorrow morning. Early.
I want to know what it is, but she doesn't reply to my next message. I resign myself to having to wait.
I nod off waiting for my plane, but I wake up in time for the boarding.
I stay awake the entire flight. We have a bumpy takeoff because of the storm. I stare out the window at the dark sky and the dark clouds. I can barely see a thing, but nothing can make me take my eyes away from the darkness. It comforts me. Calls out to my mind. Provides fodder for my anger.
I keep repeating everything that's happened during this brief trip up north. The wake and the funeral.
But I block out any memory and any stray thought of the cremation. I forget what the urn looks like. I erase the expressions on Miki's parents' faces after they walked out of the crematorium. Those are several things I never want to think about ever again.
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If you kill Shibata next, I'm going to scream and maybe cry. Please let her be able to talk to Aya and not end up like Miki...
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We get home very late that night. Lots of people are drunk as we leave, and I feel bitterness inside me start to take root. Do these people even care about her? Are they here just for food and drink? For show?
I crawl under the covers just past one and try to forget all about the "caring" guests.
I often wonder that myself when I'm at an Asian wake. (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c340/J-F-C/confused.gif)
Don't burn her. Don't make her disappear any more than she already has.
Don't make it real
God no......(http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c340/J-F-C/cry.gif)
"I always wondered, though, if she loved her life and friends in Tokyo more than she loved her family in Hokkaido."
Somehow, a lot of parents must think something similar when their kids move away from home. For so long, they're used to their kids always being there, talking with them, and just being a part of their lives. When they move away, and that presence is no longer there, one can't help but feel a little abandoned.
During my wait at the airport, I mail Shibata. I tell her I'll be landing at Haneda airport just before midnight and that I'll visit her tomorrow. She mails me back a rushed message. She's on her way out, but she has something to talk to me about tomorrow morning. Early.
I want to know what it is, but she doesn't reply to my next message. I resign myself to having to wait.
Oh, sounds Shiba-chan's been busy.
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I often wonder that myself when I'm at an Asian wake. (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c340/J-F-C/confused.gif)
Guessing you wouldn't be too enthused about an Irish one. For me, I like them that way. I guess it is all what you are raised with though. Here it is laugh and remember who they were, not how they are now. You cry and stuff but it is never really that bad. Someone will come up and say "Why are you crying? Don't you remember when so and so did that?" and then just stop, mid sob "You're right. f#*king bastard!" then you gigglesob for a few minutes and go back to laughing. I remember the first time someone I was close to died and the parents had a talk with me about remembering the times you had together and the things that happened. You don't need to see them in a wooden box, because that's not them. They aren't there. Funeral attendance is pretty much optional because of that.
Uhh off track much? Anyway, good stuff OTN1. Very good.
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Oh, sounds Shiba-chan's been busy.
Lol... busy. It was surprising to see Aya finally break down in front of other people (besides Shibata). That dream reminds me of the Love infinity dream Aya had... :o are they somehow related?
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Hey one question, do you do some kind of researches for what you're gonna write? Like for example the budhist funeral, I don't know if you were already familiar with that, but I mean in general, do you bother looking for that kind of things? I just ask it couse your chapter writing pace is so fast that it almost seems like it isn't really a great effort for you to write this story.
EDIT: I was wrong, I didn't notice ::)
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erink, thanks for sharing. Off track is good! I guess Aya would go crazy (crazier?) if they held an Irish-style funeral for Miki, huh?
That dream reminds me of the Love infinity dream Aya had... :o are they somehow related?
You mean the "in bed with multiple Mikis" one?? Hahaha, I don't see how you could have made that connection. Funny! No, they're not related. Or at least I didn't try to relate them consciously. Who knows what sorts of nefarious things my subconscious gets up to, though.
ChiruChaCha, I did do a little research because I wanted it to seem a bit realistic (plus, I've never attended a J-Buddhist funeral before, so I had to get an idea about it), but notice how I did gloss over a lot of details. That's how I was able to churn out this chapter almost as quickly as the previous ones.
Miscellaneous note: I had written out the final chapter some time ago, and then I lost it. I looked through all my papers and couldn't find it. I got very discouraged because I would have it no other way than the way I'd written it on that piece of paper. Luckily, I found it two nights ago. I feel much better now!
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I did it for you.
Is this Aya's subconciousness blaming herself for Miki's death? Or some kind of message from Miki?
The funeral wasn't at all what I expected, but then I don't know what I expected really, but it's different... it's good (sorry, I'm making no sense here)
It was very real and touching (and made me think back to my Dad's funeral)
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The former, I think.
The funeral maybe wasn't exactly the most gut-wrenching part of this story. It seems to have gone downhill since the morgue. I don't know. I can't remember who said it, but yes, there's that sense of growing accustomed to the situation. Miki's dead, Aya's a bit crazy and very upset. And sorry, some of you have talked about funerals and family members that have passed away. I don't want to dredge up old pain or sad memories.
Chapter 23
"I met up with him again."
"What? So soon?"
"His name is Takashi."
Silence.
"That's it? No family name?"
"He didn't mention one."
Sigh.
"What did you talk about?"
"Ourselves. Our hobbies. He's really into photography."
"Great. Photography. Did you tell him who you are?"
"Just a first name and that I'm a student and part-time singer."
"And?"
"You're going to want to meet up with me to talk about this. Are you free?"
"Yes. Shall I go there?"
"No, I'll go and meet you there. Half an hour?"
"Fine. See you soon."
I hang up the phone and check the time. It's nearing eight o'clock. Shibata called early like she promised. I've gotten about five hours of sleep, three if you subtract all the time I spent waking up and brooding. I kept thinking I heard the phone ringing, imagining it was Sugiura-san calling to say he'd caught the murderer.
Somehow, that thought lets me down. I want to find the person responsible. I want to get to him first before the police can have him.
I dress quickly and put some water to boil. I may as well thank my friend by having some warm tea waiting for her when she gets here.
Exactly half an hour later, the doorbell rings. An army could use Shibata as a timepiece with her ability to be so punctual. I let her in and we get right down to business after I pour us some tea.
"Talk," I say eagerly, taking a sip of my tea and then focusing all my attention on the girl sitting across the table from me.
"Takashi's made a proposal," Shibata begins. "After I told him that I was affiliated with a small, independent label, he told me he knew some people in the music industry - clean, he insisted, and he did drop some legitimate names - that could help me get a better deal. He said his hobby was photography, and that if I wanted to make a deal with one of these labels he was recommending, he could handle all the headshots and the artwork, and all that stuff we don't really think about as performers. He happened to have his portfolio with him, and Aya-chan, this guy is good. He could be a professional. Very tempting."
I see where this is going. Maybe Miki was trying to get some sort of photo deal out of this guy. Maybe he's really a dirty man who wanted to do dirty things or take dirty pictures, and once Miki refused, he got demanding and violent and then killed her when she wouldn't take her clothes off for a shot.
Or not.
I don't know. That could be it.
"I see what you're thinking," she interrupts my thoughts quickly, "but he doesn't give off a creepy vibe at all. He's very relaxed, very calm. He has a very trusting face. A very handsome one."
"So he lulled you into a false sense of security," I state.
Shibata shifts uncomfortably.
"I don't know. He seems pretty genuine. And his portfolio is really tasteful. More tasteful than some other people we've worked with in the past," she replies with a wince.
"So what do we do?"
Shibata mulls it over. So do I.
What can we do? Follow this proposal? See if it leads us to Miki? It's either that, or this guy is for real, and Shibata will end up with some sort of special record and photoshoot deal.
"I say I play along. Pretend to be interested."
I nod. Maybe Shibata's right. I should trust her.
"Okay. When are you meeting him next?"
"This afternoon."
That's so soon. It almost seems to be going by too quickly. I can't control it.
"Oh..."
Shibata looks at her watch.
"Listen, I've got to go now. I'll be meeting Takashi in the early afternoon, but can I swing by here afterwards? I can give you my report then."
She stands up, and I stand up with her to see her out. I don't like being left all alone with nothing to do but mope. I can't ask her to stay, though. She has her life.
"Be careful, Shiba-chan," I say before she leaves. "I've lost one important person. I don't want to lose another."
She smiles at me.
"Thanks. I will be. You take care, too. Don't do anything I wouldn't do. I mean it."
She waves and walks off to the elevator.
I wash out our teacups and ponder what to do next.
I end up calling Sugiura. I casually ask him about the investigation. He's still tight-lipped about it, but he lets on that they still have no idea who the killer is. It seems like I'm still in his good books because he asks me how I'm doing and whether I attended Miki's funeral or not. I answer brusquely that yes, I went, and that I'm doing as well as can be expected. Afterwards, there's an awkward pause which I fill up with a technical question about the will-like note and about Miki's apartment. When can I go there to start organising her things?
"We'll be out of there by tomorrow afternoon," he says in a definite voice. "You can go any time after that."
I wonder if I can hold him to his word.
As for Miki's final will, he has contacted the Fujimoto family about her bank account, the sum of which she has left to them.
"I don't mean to pry, Matsuura-san, but do you need some help?" Sugiura asks, his voice going into super-sensitive mode.
Help? With my own investigation? He doesn’t know I'm doing that.
"I could give you some numbers or recommend some people who are trained in counselling," he elaborates, oblivious to my thoughts.
Wait, professional help? A psychologist or psychiatrist, or whoever that person is that checks your head to see if you're loopy? No thank you.
"I'm fine," I reply curtly.
"In times of grief, especially when you've lost a, uh, loved one, you really need to be able to talk about it to-"
"I'm fine," I repeat. "I have friends. Good friends."
I think of Shibata. She'll listen to me and give me better advice than some stranger could.
"All right. If you ever need to talk, you can call me. I'll refer you. Given your situation..."
What? I almost say. I want to challenge him to finish that sentence. Tell me what my situation is. Then I want to trample all over what he says and tell him to get off his butt and start doing real work for once. There's a killer on the loose.
Instead of blowing up, I thank him coldly and end our conversation.
To pass the time, I take out Miki's notebook and journal and I read them over and over. I lie on my back on my bed and try to remember the tune of her song. I hold the lyrics above me and try to sing them along to the tune. I make up my own tune when I forget how the original one goes. Maybe I should fix up this song and record it. Miki's words communicated through music and poetry after her death. A touching thought.
At two-forty, Shibata mails me.
I'll be there in fifteen minutes.
All right, Shiba-chan. More tea it is.
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If I didn't know any better, it sounds like Shibata is falling for this guy... or not. Anyway, it feels refreshing to get a suspenseful chapter instead of a sad, there's no reason to live anymore, chapter (no offense meant).
Oh and, this is a weird question, but does Shibata and Aya end up hooking up? Because that's what it sounds like... yeah.
Thanks for updating so fast!
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Guessing you wouldn't be too enthused about an Irish one. For me, I like them that way. I guess it is all what you are raised with though. Here it is laugh and remember who they were, not how they are now. You cry and stuff but it is never really that bad. Someone will come up and say "Why are you crying? Don't you remember when so and so did that?" and then just stop, mid sob "You're right. f#*king bastard!" then you gigglesob for a few minutes and go back to laughing. I remember the first time someone I was close to died and the parents had a talk with me about remembering the times you had together and the things that happened. You don't need to see them in a wooden box, because that's not them. They aren't there. Funeral attendance is pretty much optional because of that.
Yeah I know. I probably should have elaborated a bit. There are times at Asian wakes (which can sometimes last several days) when you can't help but wonder if people are there to actually pay their respects and remember the departed, or if they're just there to mooch some free food & drink (I personally find instances of the latter to be...distasteful, to say the least).
"I met up with him again."
"What? So soon?"
"His name is Takashi."
Silence.
"That's it? No family name?"
"He didn't mention one."
So now we have a name. (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c340/J-F-C/hmmm.gif)
"Takashi's made a proposal," Shibata begins. "After I told him that I was affiliated with a small, independent label, he told me he knew some people in the music industry - clean, he insisted, and he did drop some legitimate names - that could help me get a better deal. He said his hobby was photography, and that if I wanted to make a deal with one of these labels he was recommending, he could handle all the headshots and the artwork, and all that stuff we don't really think about as performers. He happened to have his portfolio with him, and Aya-chan, this guy is good. He could be a professional. Very tempting."
For some reason, the instant I finished reading that part I thought "yakuza". It could definitely explain why Miki was meeting with them so often. If Miki wasn't that satisfied at U-Con, it could be that she wanted to have more hands-on control of her career instead of leaving it in the hands of some producers. :eek:
I'll be meeting Takashi in the early afternoon, but can I swing by here afterwards? I can give you my report then.
It's like they're spies. ;D Really HOT spies, mind you. But still...spies. >:D
"Be careful, Shiba-chan," I say before she leaves. "I've lost one important person. I don't want to lose another."
She smiles at me.
"Thanks. I will be. You take care, too. Don't do anything I wouldn't do. I mean it."
Shiba-chan has a right to be concerned about this. Aya's still really emotionally involved in this. Can't take a chance she'll do something impulsive that would/could hamper their efforts now.
Afterwards, there's an awkward pause which I fill up with a technical question about the will-like note and about Miki's apartment. When can I go there to start organising her things?
"We'll be out of there by tomorrow afternoon," he says in a definite voice. "You can go any time after that."
I wonder if I can hold him to his word.
I wonder if he's going to try something sneaky like bugging Miki's place and secretly using Aya as bait in case that something might happen while she's over there organizing Miki's stuff.
"All right. If you ever need to talk, you can call me. I'll refer you. Given your situation..."
What? I almost say. I want to challenge him to finish that sentence. Tell me what my situation is. Then I want to trample all over what he says and tell him to get off his butt and start doing real work for once. There's a killer on the loose.
Well, cops aren't always known for having good tact. But he DOES mean well.
At two-forty, Shibata mails me.
I'll be there in fifteen minutes.
All right, Shiba-chan. More tea it is.
Espionage & tea go well together, don't they? (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c340/J-F-C/rolleyes.gif)
-
It's very 007, but with tea instead of martinis.
Oh and, this is a weird question, but does Shibata and Aya end up hooking up? Because that's what it sounds like... yeah.
Ah, the timeless question from my readers (or some of them). Hahaha.
Chapter 24
In what is developing into our routine, Shibata comes in, sits down with some tea, and starts to report.
"Takashi's bringing some people to the café so that we can meet."
More people? This has got to be the extra people who Ochiai said were meeting with Miki. They must be one big team of killers.
"We're going to have a casual chat. Nothing big, he said."
"When?"
"Actually, this evening."
This evening? Already? That's really suspicious.
"I'm going with you," I say determinedly.
"No you're not," she replies without a skipping a beat. "Everyone knows who you are. It's too dangerous. I can handle it on my own."
"No. I'm going to go and have a look. If they're the same people that met with Miki, I want to know."
"How will you even know?" sighs Shibata. "Ochiai-san can confirm it, and I can come back here and tell you everything."
I shake my head.
"Not good enough. I want to see these guys. I'll hide out in the kitchen, and I promise not to show my face."
"No," Shibata says in a final tone. "There's no way I'm letting you go."
An hour and a half later, Shibata and I walk into the Terrace Café. I've won our argument. I keep my head down low and follow behind her. Surprisingly, there's nobody in the little shop, so we call Ochiai out. I explain to her what I want to do, and I ask if it's all right to stay in the kitchen with her. She agrees to it, and I'm quickly ushered in while Shibata goes to wait at her table. She's a bit early, so she orders a coffee.
I stand in a corner of the kitchen and avoid the occasional curious looks I get from the staff. Two of them are making sweets, while another one is seated and eating a sandwich. Ochiai is sitting out in the shop as a lookout, so I have nobody to talk with. I wait, fidgeting and shifting my weight every few minutes.
This situation I'm in is really absurd when I think about it. I'm hiding in a kitchen, acting like a spy. Do I really think I can catch a killer? I'm way out of my league here.
While moping over my situation, I hear the wind chimes signal that the door has been opened. I peek out the kitchen and see a tall figure walk in. My gaze shifts toward Ochiai's immediately. She has the same idea, and she looks in my direction casually and nods once. Our signal for Takashi.
A server immediately goes to seat him, so I can't see his face until she moves away.
My god, he's handsome. They haven't been exaggerating. He walks in with an air of confidence, but modesty. His face is set in a peaceful expression, his eyes gentle. He looks like he's in his thirties, but a young thirties.
Suddenly I don't feel so sure about myself. Even I'm swooning over this man's perfection. I can only imagine what Miki must have thought when she saw him. I can see him approaching her, her eyes going starry staring into his. He tells a joke and she giggles. He compliments her on her fashion sense and she blushes and thanks him. Maybe there was something going on between them...
No. That's not how Miki would act anyway.
My jaw hardens and I go into denial mode. I watch him walk over to Shibata's table. They greet each other with smiles, and he sits down right beside her. They begin to talk. It seems like small talk. He pulls out his cell phone, and it looks like he's showing her some photos on it.
They are interrupted five minutes later by two other men. I look at Ochiai. She nods twice subtly. They're the same men that met with Miki.
I fight the urge to run out there and start demanding to know what their meetings were about. It takes every bit of willpower to keep myself from doing anything but stand and watch.
The men are introduced to Shibata, and they all sit down together. Takashi pulls out a folder and takes a sheet of paper out of it, placing it in the middle of the table. They start to discuss something, and I'm dying to know what. They keep it up for twenty minutes, and then just as quickly as they started, they finish. The two men leave. Takashi and Shibata sit and chat for a few more minutes. Then they also leave. Together.
Where are they going??
Ochiai comes back into the kitchen, but my mind is whirling with too many thoughts to start a conversation with her. She starts it instead.
"Those two men met with Fujimoto-san. The meeting they just had now looked just like the meetings she had with them."
This can't be happening. What is going on? What's their hidden agenda?
"Did you hear anything?" I ask.
Ochiai shakes her head.
Flustered, I take out my cell phone and mail Shibata
Where are you going?!?
Twenty minutes pass and I get no reply. My heart starts to beat at a crazy speed. What if Takashi's going to drown Shibata? What if he's going to take her back to his apartment and do who knows what with her? I refuse to let him get to anyone else anymore. I have to protect what's left of my friends. I'm not going to let Shibata become his next victim. I'm about to jump out of the café and go looking for them when my phone rings.
"Aya-chan, h-"
"Where did you go?!" I yell into the phone, completely losing my nerve.
"Don't worry. We walked to the station together. He's gone now."
I try to breathe evenly. I try to quell the hatred rising up in me.
"Okay," I mumble.
"Stay put. I'm going back to get you."
She hangs up and I feel weak from my outburst. Ochiai lets me have a seat at a table and she brings over some water, sitting across from me.
"She means a lot to you, doesn't she," she says.
Who is she talking about? Miki or Shiba-chan? Of course they both mean a lot to me. But in different ways.
I shrug uncertainly.
"I don't think she would have done anything to hurt you," Ochiai continues. "Like I told you, I'm a people watcher. I can tell that much."
I think she's talking about Miki. If she's as good a people watcher as she claims to be, then it must have been pretty obvious to her just how much Miki meant to me (and vice versa) when I was with her at the café.
But wait. Didn't Ochiai say Takashi gave her a bad feeling? That he was a nice man on the outside, but disturbed on the inside? I wonder why Shibata hasn't picked up on that.
Maybe she's smitten with him, too, I think sourly.
"I'd love to believe you," I tell her.
She gives me a strange look. One that tells me I should trust her. But how can I? My self-esteem is being broken down bit by bit as the minutes tick by. A thousand letters from Miki cannot comfort me. A million memories of kisses cannot make me see past the thick fog that has settled over my eyes. A fog full of uncertainty and jealousy.
"Wallowing in your self-pity won't do you any good," she says suddenly.
Those are the harshest words I've ever heard her speak. She sounds like Shibata on one of her inspirational tirades that start with her chastising me.
"Stop feeling so insecure and sorry for yourself, and stop questioning a dead girl's actions as if you really know about them, because you don't. I was here and I was watching her. I would know if her feelings changed at all. They never did. If you really liked her and knew her, then you wouldn't be doubting her."
Oh... my...
She's right.
I sit there, shocked, my eyes locked with Ochiai's. This woman must be some mystical being. An angel or... something. She's like an all-knowing, omnipotent person who has dug into my mind, brought forth my issues, and displayed them on the table so that I can see them clearly.
But I don't know if she fully understands or not. It's not that I don't trust Miki. It's just that I really don't know where I am anymore. The world has no up and no down, and I'm floating around in it without knowing which way I'm going. I'm lost, not because I can't find the road, but because there is no road. There's no precedent. This has never happened before. I have nothing to go on, no example to follow. If anything, I'm making the road as I go. Nothing makes sense to me. It seems that everything I've believed up until the point of Miki's death can't be trusted anymore. Everything is the opposite now. I'm no longer a confident person. I'm weak and unsure of myself.
I have to stop that feeling.
I swallow hard and don't say a word until Shibata comes running in. She bursts upon the scene like a nuclear explosion, stunning me out of my silence. Ochiai seems surprised, too, and her expression softens as she looks at Shibata.
"Um, sorry to interrupt..." Shibata says uncertainly, no doubt sensing the tension between me and Ochiai.
"No, have a seat. I was just leaving."
Ochiai gets up and gestures to her chair. With a firm nod directed at me, she floats off into the kitchen. Shibata looks after her with a puzzled frown, but then quickly sits down.
"Shiba-chan," I say, but I don't continue. I can't think of what to say to her.
"Okay, that meeting was really weird," she starts off.
"What happened?" I ask, getting into thinking mode again.
"Well, first, we just chatted. About sports, actually. He's a big curling fan. Then those men came in. They were nice. We just discussed my schedule for the next few months. They told me about some of the projects they've worked on before. Just a meeting to get to know each other."
"I don't see what's so weird about that," I say.
Shibata shakes her head.
"It wasn't the discussion that weirded me out. It was the feeling."
Oh no. Here it starts.
Shibata lowers her voice and continues to speak.
"Ochiai-san was right. There's something strange about that man. He's really charming, and he's a great conversationalist. I mean, he made curling sound interesting. But when those other men got here and we started to talk business, things changed. He got really focused, and not just the normal kind of focused. Almost obsessively so. He wanted to know every single detail about everything. I've never seen anybody get like him. I mean, you're a hard worker and you pay attention to detail, but he was a hundred times worse than you at your most concentrated."
"Did he threaten you?" I ask concernedly.
"No, not at all. But I'm going to watch out from now on. That kind of obsession isn't healthy."
It's not what I've been expecting to hear. If anything, I thought he'd get aggressive or angry. Not obsessed with tiny details. I find that I'm wanting him to do something violent so that we have an excuse to start taking more action than just chatting over coffee and hiding in kitchens.
"What's the next step?" I ask.
"We're meeting tomorrow evening."
"With those other guys?"
"How'd you guess?" Shibata asks bitterly.
We share a miserable look.
"What do you think is going on? Honestly."
Shibata sighs.
"I don't know. From the looks of it, they really want me to work with them. We're establishing a good relationship. Maybe it's to help our professional relationship go smoothly," she speculates.
"Do you think he wants, um..." I stutter. "That he wants, like, you to, uh, you and him..."
I trail off and the look on Shibata's face shows me she understands what I'm asking. It also scares me. She looks like she has no clue.
"I don't know. For all I know, that could be what he's after. It could be what he was after with Miki. If it was, she obviously didn't like it when she found out his true intentions."
That makes me feel a little better. It's true. Ochiai said Miki became angrier during the meetings as time went on. If she was happy with Takashi and those other guys, she wouldn't have gotten angry.
"What do we do if that's what he's doing?"
Shibata looks at me apprehensively.
"You're not going to like this, but we'll have to call the police."
I start to protest, but she raises a hand and her voice.
"We should have gone to them before any of this started," she reminds me. "If they're some sick group of perverts who get their kicks by promising a girl success, forcing her into having sex or killing them, we can't handle them alone."
"But if they had all those meetings with Miki, they must have known she was successful. I mean, they must have known who she was to call a meeting with her," I point out.
"Then I guess they had a really good deal for her. Better than the things she'd already done."
A chilling thought. What could they have tempted Miki with? Before they began to threaten her, that is.
What was it?
"Have you talked to Tsuyoshi-kun lately?" Shibata asks out of the blue.
"Huh?"
"Tsuyoshi-kun," she repeats slowly. "Have you talked to him?"
I shake my head.
"Not since before the funeral."
"You should give him a call. See how he's doing."
Is this Shibata's way of trying to distract me?
She's right, though. I haven't talked to Tsuyoshi, and he must be wondering how everything is going. I'll call him tonight.
"All right. I will. What are you going to do tonight?" I ask.
"Me? I have some papers I have to work on," she replies, standing up.
I stand guiltily. I've been keeping Shibata away from her own work in order to pursue this chase of mine. I need to let her get her things done.
When we say good night to Ochiai, I avoid eye contact with her. We leave and catch trains home.
The whole way home, I feel like somebody's watching me. I look around and over my shoulder, but there's nobody there. I shrug it off as paranoia and get into my apartment.
I go into my room as I think about the events of the day. Two meetings with Takashi, and a business proposal. It's unbelievable. I lie down on my bed while still wearing my jacket and I stare up at the ceiling, letting my mind wander. It's like this that I fall asleep, neglecting to call Tsuyoshi or to change into my pyjamas.
-
I, Aramaki Mikan, have a theory. Yes, it shocked me. A thought to call my own
< < < Ok, so Miki felt guilty that Aya quit the company for her so she decided to find her another job and thats where this man comes in. Miki goes and has these secret meetings and discusses the possibility of Aya going to work at this different company. Things go wrong, Miki dies and there are a lot of things Im clueless on but there you have it. My stab in the dark > > >
-
I want to see these guys. I'll hide out in the kitchen, and I promise not to show my face."
"No," Shibata says in a final tone. "There's no way I'm letting you go."
An hour and a half later, Shibata and I walk into the Terrace Café. I've won our argument.
Miki's stubborn streak is still alive in Aya.
This situation I'm in is really absurd when I think about it. I'm hiding in a kitchen, acting like a spy. Do I really think I can catch a killer? I'm way out of my league here.
And now we see Aya finally starting to realize just how BIG this thing is that she's gotten herself, Shiba-chan, and even Ochiai-san into.
My god, he's handsome. They haven't been exaggerating. He walks in with an air of confidence, but modesty. His face is set in a peaceful expression, his eyes gentle. He looks like he's in his thirties, but a young thirties.
Suddenly I don't feel so sure about myself. Even I'm swooning over this man's perfection. I can only imagine what Miki must have thought when she saw him. I can see him approaching her, her eyes going starry staring into his. He tells a joke and she giggles. He compliments her on her fashion sense and she blushes and thanks him. Maybe there was something going on between them...
No. That's not how Miki would act anyway.
Don't let his good looks be a distraction. Just because something/-one is physically good-looking doesn't mean that it can't be deadly/dangerous.
"Wallowing in your self-pity won't do you any good," she says suddenly.
Those are the harshest words I've ever heard her speak. She sounds like Shibata on one of her inspirational tirades that start with her chastising me.
"Stop feeling so insecure and sorry for yourself, and stop questioning a dead girl's actions as if you really know about them, because you don't. I was here and I was watching her. I would know if her feelings changed at all. They never did. If you really liked her and knew her, then you wouldn't be doubting her."
Oh... my...
She's right.
Aya really needed to hear that. She's been running on nothing but pure emotion in regards to this situation; after a while, it's not surprising that she has been starting to have her doubts about a lot of stuff (even Miki).
Shibata shakes her head.
"It wasn't the discussion that weirded me out. It was the feeling."
Oh no. Here it starts.
Shibata lowers her voice and continues to speak.
"Ochiai-san was right. There's something strange about that man. He's really charming, and he's a great conversationalist. I mean, he made curling sound interesting. But when those other men got here and we started to talk business, things changed. He got really focused, and not just the normal kind of focused. Almost obsessively so. He wanted to know every single detail about everything. I've never seen anybody get like him. I mean, you're a hard worker and you pay attention to detail, but he was a hundred times worse than you at your most concentrated."
Ok, so it's one of those things where first impressions seem fine, but upon closer inspection you see more of what's really there, and it usually doesn't look good. Shiba-chan's right, paying attention to detail is one thing, but being THAT interested in absolutely everything is just overkill, and usually a warning sign.
But hey, I watch curling from time to time. I find it interesting. Should I be worried? (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c340/J-F-C/blink.gif) :P
"Do you think he wants, um..." I stutter. "That he wants, like, you to, uh, you and him..."
I trail off and the look on Shibata's face shows me she understands what I'm asking. It also scares me. She looks like she has no clue.
"I don't know. For all I know, that could be what he's after. It could be what he was after with Miki. If it was, she obviously didn't like it when she found out his true intentions."
That makes me feel a little better. It's true. Ochiai said Miki became angrier during the meetings as time went on. If she was happy with Takashi and those other guys, she wouldn't have gotten angry.
Miki would have probably decked him if he tried to get her to do anything like that. If Takashi really is the killer, he could have snapped at being rejected.
"You're not going to like this, but we'll have to call the police."
I start to protest, but she raises a hand and her voice.
"We should have gone to them before any of this started," she reminds me. "If they're some sick group of perverts who get their kicks by promising a girl success, forcing her into having sex or killing them, we can't handle them alone."
If this is something that these guys have done before with other women, then they're serial killers. If that's the case, they really do need to call the authorities.
"But if they had all those meetings with Miki, they must have known she was successful. I mean, they must have known who she was to call a meeting with her," I point out.
"Then I guess they had a really good deal for her. Better than the things she'd already done."
A chilling thought. What could they have tempted Miki with? Before they began to threaten her, that is.
What was it?
Even if Takashi is as charming as he's portrayed to be, it would take something really significant to get Miki interested. Strangely, I can't help but wonder, what if these guys are part of some upstart new company trying to land they're first "big-name" singing. They could be looking for a "face" for their company (like how Hamasaki Ayu is/was for a long time with Avex), and thus would have promised a lot of exposure and likely, money.
I go into my room as I think about the events of the day. Two meetings with Takashi, and a business proposal. It's unbelievable.
It does seem like things were moving really fast in terms of how soon they came forth with the business proposal. Can't help but be suspicious about that.
-
This story is so fascinating, I keep running over the evidence in my mind and coming up with the same conclusion Aya has. Nothing. So I shall wait patiently for the next chapter.
-
Nice theory, Mikan, but my lips are sealed.
No offence meant about the curling, JFC. I'm not a fan, myself. I guess I was going to insult someone no matter what sport I chose. :D
Chapter 25
That night, I have violent dreams. I chase after and catch Miki's killer. I'm straddling him, beating him senseless as I scream incoherent words of hatred. At first he has no face. When I look at it, it's blank as if it's been censored. Slowly, though, it becomes clearer and clearer. It's Tsuyoshi's face.
I wake up in a cold sweat, an image of the boy's blood-covered face stuck in my head. I try to shake it out as I get out of bed. I'm still in the clothes I was wearing yesterday, but I'm too disturbed by my dream to feel disgusted about that.
It's all Shibata's fault. She planted the idea of not being able to trust Tsuyoshi. This dream is the result of that, coupled with the fact that he was on my mind since I had meant to call him. I can't let Shibata's idea take root because it's ridiculous.
I get out of my clothes and take a hot shower. When I get out, the steam rises quickly from my skin into the cool air, and I look into the mirror. I'm startled to see a tired, angry girl staring back. That's not my usual face. I've always looked vibrant and healthy. Now I'm starting to look like a mess. I haven't been sleeping or eating properly, and I've been obsessing over tiny details, stressing my mind, straining all my nerves.
Just a little bit more, I think to myself. Hang on just a little bit more.
I'll be able to rest after I've found the killer. Right now, I have to try and stay focused on the goal.
I go and get ready for the day slowly. No job and no Miki means there's not much to do. I don't want to see my other friends, and I don't feel like doing cheerful things to distract myself. Shibata's meeting isn't until the evening, but she's busy now. I can't go and hang out with her.
Tsuyoshi. I should call him. I meant to last night before I fell asleep in my day clothes. It's not quite ten o'clock. He must be at work. I dial his number.
Six rings later, I'm about to give up when a voice answers. It's an older woman. Do I have the wrong number?
"Hello, is Tsuyoshi-kun there?" I ask uncertainly.
"Oh, he's just getting into the taxi," says the woman.
I frown suspiciously. Since when does Tsuyoshi's job as secretary include getting into taxis in the middle of the morning? What's he doing? Where's he going?
"Taxi?" I ask.
"Yes, for the airport. He's off to Kyushu for a week."
Airport? Kyushu? A week? How convenient for him to be taking off now as Shibata and I are getting closer to Takashi and his group. Maybe they're in cahoots...
"Actually," the talkative woman continues, "we're all going. The whole family. We're visiting our son - Tsuyoshi's brother - there at his university."
I breathe a sigh of relief. I'm talking to his mother, and it's not a solo trip.
"Oh."
"Good thing you called. I don't think he's realised he's forgotten his phone. Would you like to talk to him? I'm just going out to the taxi."
"No, that's all right," I say quickly. "I'll call him some other time when he's not busy."
No point trying to talk about my private investigation with him when he's surrounded by people.
"All right, then."
"Thank you. Goodbye."
I hang up and am ridden with guilt. I can't believe I suspected him when I heard he was taking off for the airport. How could I? It's a family trip. He's not jumping ship and fleeing the country because he thinks I'm going to unveil him as Miki's killer.
I get up, grab my light jacket, and go out for lack of anything better to do. I end up walking for two hours, wandering around aimlessly. My life is so pointless right now. There's only one thing I want to do. No, two. One is to catch Miki's killer. The other is to wake up from this nightmare.
When I realise I'm hungry, I head back home and scour my kitchen for edible food. I'm running out. I'll have to go shopping. Maybe this afternoon.
No, wait. This afternoon I can go to Miki's apartment. I have to call to find out when I'm allowed. Not that that stopped me before.
I slurp down half a bowl of instant noodles (see how low I've stooped?) and call Sugiura. Luckily, I get him while he's on his lunch break. I ask about going to the apartment, and he gives me the green light. They cleared out two hours ago. I thank him and let him return to his lunch.
With nothing keeping me in my apartment, I get up and leave again. Miki's key is still with mine, so I don't have to worry about trying to find it in my apartment.
On my way there, I try to piece together all the information I know. Miki was killed sometime in the early morning. She was beaten and pushed into a river. She drowned there, meaning she must've blacked out from the pain before being pushed in. Otherwise, she could have swum to safety. Before that day, Miki was having lots of meetings, something which started at the beginning of September at the Terrace Café. Ochiai said that each meeting was held at the same time and same place with the same man - Takashi - and several of his friends. The meetings started pleasantly, but eventually turned the opposite. Miki became upset and argumentative. What remained constants were the time, the place, and the fact that Miki always left the café with Takashi. In her journal, Miki made reference to a threat. "They say if I tell anyone, they'll kill her," she wrote. I have assumed that the "she" in the sentence is me. I've also gone and assumed that the "they" means her killers or aggressors, and currently, I strongly believe that Takashi and his men fit that description. Now, Shibata has made contact with those men, and she's been offered a record deal plus some promotional photography. That's it.
That's nothing.
We have no idea what Miki and Takashi discussed. They could have been arranging their wedding ceremony for all I know.
I shake the bitterness out of my mind. There I go being absurd again. At least thinking about it has distracted me. I find myself standing in front of Miki's door. I take a deep breath in and open the door.
Everything's almost the same as when Shibata and I snuck in. Some things have been tucked back away where they belong.
I walk around the whole place. All this stuff is mine now. The clothes, books, CDs, jewellery, shoes, the contents of the fridge.
The fridge. I open the door and find fruit and vegetables that have just started to go bad. I sigh and start to sift through everything, throwing out what's expired. I throw out about half of what's in the fridge. Next, I have to check the trash pick-up schedule. Then I have to take what I can use from her fridge before it expires.
I clench my fists suddenly and walk away from the kitchen, unable to stand having to think of all these details. It's not fair. I shouldn't have to be throwing out an expired carton of juice. Miki should have been alive this past week drinking it before it could see the light of its expiration date.
I walk into her bedroom and lie down. It's comfortable and warm. But it's missing something. Someone.
I turn my head and look at the bookshelf. On it is a framed picture of Miki, me, and a group of our Hello Project friends and coworkers from Takahashi Ai's birthday party two years ago. There are seven of us in total. In the front row, Miki and I are standing beside each other, Ai to her left, Eri to my right. We're all smiling happily and giving V signs to the camera. I stare at Miki's face for a whole minute.
"It's time for you to come back now," I speak to her picture in a small voice.
But she doesn't come back. The front door remains closed. All I hear is traffic outside.
Unnerved by the silence, I get up and go to the stereo in the living room. I turn on the power and press play to find out what Miki was listening to last. Some band I don't know starts singing. It's in English, so I can't understand. It sounds like the mix CD her foreign friend and former co-worker Katherine made for her. I've only listened to it once before, so I can't say for sure. Whatever it is, though, it's a nice song, so I leave it playing in the background.
I lie down on the floor, looking up at the white ceiling, remembering a time I was in a similar position. Miki's conversation topics were sometimes beyond strange, but I somehow put up with them...
"What would you do if you found out I was a psychotic axe-murderer?" she asked me one night last year.
We had just gotten back to her apartment from a party, and we'd collapsed on the floor, exhausted, a little tipsy, and looking up at the ceiling as though observing the starry night sky.
"Are you trying to tell me something?" I asked, turning my head and raising my eyebrows in mock suspicion.
"No no no!" she exclaimed, looking back at me. "But... what if?"
I paused, looked up, and thought. That would be a tough call to make.
"Morally and legally, I'd be obligated to report you to the police," I started.
"But?"
"But... all those other things. Um, heartfully, emotionally, whateverly, I'd be forced to keep my mouth shut and just keep on living with you around."
"And pray that I never went psycho on you," she winked.
"Yes," I agreed with an exaggerated nod.
"So which would you do?" she asked almost seriously.
"Which? Um..." I stalled.
I didn't want to sound like a lawbreaker, but I didn't want to be cold-hearted.
"It would depend on how badly you pissed me off before I found out."
I rolled onto my side and looked down at her.
"If you annoyed me, I'd go straight to the police. But if you acted like your adorable self, like you are right now," for emphasis, I pinched her cheeks with one hand, squishing her lips together, "then I'd stay quiet."
She shook my hand off her face and pouted, which made me even more resolute about not giving away her hypothetical homicidal streak to the police.
"Thanks," she said. "I guess I'd do the same for you."
"You guess?" I asked dangerously, prepping for a battle.
Instead of taking the bait, she smiled peacefully.
"I mean of course."
Actually, I was glad she didn't rise up to the challenge and start one of our playful sparring sessions bursting with witty banter. I was far too tired and my brain was a little too woozy. I lay myself back down on the floor, and we continued to watch the imaginary stars above us.
I turn my head to look beside me. Nobody's there. Just a ghost of a memory. I sigh longingly and continue to reminisce, as being in this apartment brings me deeper and deeper into the past.
I nod off for an hour while thinking. After my nap, I get up and rummage through some things. I sit down in front of the shelf by the television set and look through it. This time at a much slower and calmer pace. Last time I looked through these things, I was bending the law.
I come across an old postcard that I sent her from Hiroshima during my tour. I read what I wrote back in the spring and I laugh at how stupid I sound. It's a very rushed postcard. "Hi, wish you were here" and "bye." But it's the thought that counts, right? I hope.
But... maybe I didn't do enough for her. I think back on all my actions, and I find myself wondering what kept her around for so long. Was she really happy being around me? She wrote so on paper, and she said so in person, but maybe that's because she didn't know any better. Maybe I just happened to be the nicest person she knew. She could have done better, but she stopped when she found a decent level of caring. I was just Mediocre, but if she'd ditched me, she could have had time to find Stellar.
What sorts of things did I do? Let's see. I list them off on my fingers as I go.
I purposely forgot her birthday every year. I scolded her for being immature. I made her keep her apartment spotless. I made her wake up on time for work and always made sure she left a little early (except for a few times). I yelled at her when she pissed me off. I refused to talk to her when I was in a bad mood. I teased her to make her turn red in embarrassment. Even before the beginning, I dated that dull plastic bag boy just to put distance between me and her and to make me deny the attraction I felt.
To my credit, though, I never got jealous, but that seems to have been my only redeeming quality.
What a way to show you care about someone, I think acerbically.
I put the postcard back on the shelf between two books. I lie back down on my back.
Maybe she would have been better off not knowing me.
-
I have a ton of theories on how this story is gonna go... but none of them end up good :(
::Is still hoping for a spinoff of Sukeban Deka::
Thanks for another chapter!
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Miki would be angry if she knew what Aya was thinking right now.
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No offence meant about the curling, JFC. I'm not a fan, myself. I guess I was going to insult someone no matter what sport I chose. :D
No worries bro, just keep dishin' out the crack and I'll be fine. :D
I chase after and catch Miki's killer. I'm straddling him, beating him senseless as I scream incoherent words of hatred. At first he has no face. When I look at it, it's blank as if it's been censored. Slowly, though, it becomes clearer and clearer. It's Tsuyoshi's face.
...
It's all Shibata's fault. She planted the idea of not being able to trust Tsuyoshi.
Whoa, THAT is not a good sign. Aya's still running on fumes, and her ability to think calmly and coherently is starting to waver.
This dream is the result of that, coupled with the fact that he was on my mind since I had meant to call him.
Well, let's hope it's just that. It's sometimes said and believed that dreams are how one's unconsciousness communicates with one's conscious self. It could be that despite how she trusts Tsuyoshi, deep down, without realizing it, she might be "not so sure" about him for some reason.
*NB. It's past 1am as I type this. Great time for pulling weird tangets/shit outta my ass.*
"Yes, for the airport. He's off to Kyushu for a week."
Airport? Kyushu? A week? How convenient for him to be taking off now as Shibata and I are getting closer to Takashi and his group. Maybe they're in cahoots...
Another sign that Aya may not be completely thinking straight. But then again...more often than not a person's instincts are correct.[/conspiracy mode]
I slurp down half a bowl of instant noodles
Instant noodles FTW!!! ;D
Even before the beginning, I dated that dull plastic bag boy just to put distance between me and her and to make me deny the attraction I felt.
Friday's Children reference!!! :D
Maybe she would have been better off not knowing me.
Here we have the old "If I wasn't in her life she might not have gotten mixed up in whatever it was she got mixed up in, meaning she'd probably still be alive" theory. Aya's starting to think that even though they would not have known each other and had been a part of each other's lives, Miki would at least still be alive. It causes one to think if the old addage is true. Is it really "better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved before?"
Random conspiracy/pulled-out-of-my-ass theory time - Miki was going to quit UConn and go to work for Takeshi's company. Tsuyoshi finds out, and is really REALLY upset about it. After work on that fateful night, he confronts Miki about it and they argue. She tries to leave, he grabs her to stop her because he doesn't want to stop the argument. They struggle for a bit and it turns into a full-blown fight, ending up with Miki getting hurt/knocked out. Tsuyoshi panics and rolls her body into the river.
:stunned:
It's lame, I know. Like Aya, I'm tired right now and am running on fumes trying to get caught up on all these fics. :farofflook:
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Miki would be angry if she knew what Aya was thinking right now.
Exactly. Kinda of wish she was still around to beat some sense into Aya (although beating is bad, so maybe not).
Friday's Children reference!!! :D
Haha, well, I figured I may as well start tying the stories together.
Random conspiracy/pulled-out-of-my-ass theory time
...
It's lame, I know.
No, it's not lame. It made me sad, especially the part about Tsuyoshi panicking and dumping her body in the river. Just picture that. Or not. It makes me shudder.
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Chapter 26
Know what snaps me back into reality?
Funny enough, not Miki's words, but Ochiai's.
"Stop feeling so insecure and sorry for yourself, and stop questioning a dead girl's actions as if you really know about them, because you don't."
For the time being, I'll push my insecurity to the side and not let it get the better of me.
For the time being.
Ochiai is at least half right. I do need to stop with all this self-pity. I am me, after all, and I'm not supposed to be insecure.
I let it all go and somehow find the will to get up and rummage through her drawers and closets. I spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening looking through all her things, finding things of mine she had stolen and I'd forgotten about, and separating everything into neat piles. A lot of her clothes I can use, but do I really want to? I don't think I can feel comfortable wearing a dead girl's clothes. Yet if I don't use them, nobody will, and they'll sit there and fade away with time. I decide to take them home with me and make up my mind later. It might be too soon now, but maybe in a little bit I'll want to wear the things she wore. Maybe it'll make me feel a little connected to her.
Some of her books I want to keep, particularly the ones she always recommended to me but that I never read. Now I'll read them all cover to cover. I'll absorb every single word, because that, too, will make me feel more connected.
I start to suspect that I'm not going to be able to let go of anything of hers. My pile gets bigger and bigger, while the pile for her family and friends grows at an infinitesimal rate.
I almost shriek when my phone rings, so concentrated am I on my clean-out job.
I scramble for my phone and see Shibata's number on the display screen.
"Hi," I say in what I hope is a relaxed voice.
"Hey, Aya-chan. I just finished my meeting with Takashi and company."
"How'd it go?" I ask eagerly.
"The same as the last meeting, but this time Takashi asked me to do him a favour."
I wait for her to explain, but she doesn't.
"What favour?" I urge her on.
"He didn't say. He said he'll talk to me about it later. I have no idea what it could be, and he didn't give me any hints."
There's a pensive pause over the phone as we try to make sense of that. Eventually, we both conclude that we can't figure it out.
"Be careful," I tell her. "Don't get into anything weird."
"I know," Shibata says, and I can hear the grateful smile in her tone.
See? I can care about someone other than myself. I am a good person. Sometimes.
"When's the next meeting?"
"The day after tomorrow," Shibata says with a sigh. "At this rate, I'm going to see them more than I see you."
That makes me laugh.
"You actually sound upset about that. I thought you were sick of me."
"Sick of you? No!" It's Shibata's turn to laugh. "Despite the horrific situation, you make life interesting. And I do care. I want to help you."
"Thank you," I manage to say embarrassedly.
"Anyway, let's not talk about this mushy stuff anymore. It's not our thing. I've got to get going, but I'll be in touch."
"Thank you," I repeat, this time with much more heart.
"Anytime. See you."
We hang up.
The next week and a half flies by with conversations much like that one (minus the mushy parts). Shibata meets with Takashi and then calls me up (or meets me) to report everything she's learned. She meets with him six times in eleven days. They've mostly just been social gatherings, but one has been a real planning session.
Life without Miki doesn't get any easier after a few weeks. In fact, it gets a little harder each day. Reality already set in at the wake and funeral, but now it's repeatedly slapping me in the face with memories, daydreams, nightmares, and the general feeling of pain and longing. It feels like phantom limb syndrome. Part of me has been cut off, but I can still feel like it attached to me sometimes. Like Miki's ghost is whispering something in my ear so I don't forget a thing.
I'm almost finished going through her apartment, and I've been in contact with Miki's mom and Sugiura about legal details. I don't understand a word of it, although I try hard to. All I know is that I have to finish going through the apartment as quickly as I can.
Tsuyoshi e-mails me and we get to chatting. It turns out his brother was sick, which is why the family went down to visit him. It was just influenza, but apparently, his mother is overprotective of her eldest son. He comes back after a week, but we don't make any plans to get together. Right now we're dealing with Miki's death in our own ways.
I still haven't found a job, but I'm okay for money. Since Miki's death, I haven't felt like doing anything. Somewhere in the back of my head, something tells me that that's not good for me, but the rest of me doesn't care. My purpose is to be focused on one thing and one thing only.
I'm fixing up a late dinner one evening. It's cold outside and I've just started using my heater. I put it in my kitchen and stand beside it as I chop up an onion. Just then, my phone rings. It's Shibata. It must be time for her usual report. I rinse my hands off quickly and answer my phone.
"Aya-chan, I need to meet you right now."
She sounds absolutely terrified.
"What happened?" I demand.
"Meet me at the Family Mart near my station in thirty minutes," she says hurriedly.
"I-" I start, but I hear the line cut off.
She's hung up on me. Something's really wrong. I don't bother to clean up the kitchen. I grab what I need and rush out of the door, locking it behind me.
I catch the appropriate trains and get to the convenience store in twenty-five minutes. I'm about to e-mail Shibata when I look in the window and see her inside the store at the magazine section. I pop in discreetly and walk up beside her.
"What is this? A crime movie? What's going on?" I ask seriously.
Shibata lowers the magazine she's reading (out of all things, she had to choose Friday) and looks at me. Her eyes show the intense worry she feels.
"They mentioned Miki."
Suddenly there's nothing more important in the world than this moment. The lights go on in my head. They've been off this whole time. I've had no leads. This is the first hope I've had in the past week and a half. I'm going to grab on and not let go.
"What did they say?" I ask harshly, lowering my voice.
"It was Takashi. And he didn't mention her name specifically. He made reference to a girl who was working for him, but who met with an untimely end."
I swallow hard. Was he talking about Miki?
"What exactly did he say?" I demand.
Shibata looks flustered, and I'm sure I'm not helping.
"He was about to ask me this favour. He said it was time. I told him to go ahead and ask me, but then he stopped and asked me if I trusted him. I had to say that I did, but I don't think he was convinced. He brought up Miki. He said he had a girl working with him recently but that she didn't trust him. He said that he fired her, but the way he said it sounded like a threat. Like he meant something else with the word 'fired' and that he might do that to me, too if I didn't trust him."
All I can see is the colour red. If Takashi hired someone to kill Miki, I'm going to find the hit man and I'm going to kill him. Then I'll go after Takashi and make sure he screams so much that he'll choke to death on his own tongue as he sucks in a desperate breath of air.
"After that, we were interrupted by some more of his friends, and that was that. He never asked the favour. We have a meeting tomorrow afternoon."
I can't think. I can't make anything out. Shibata's words don't make sense to me. They're not in my language. I just want to find Takashi and beat him senseless. He's got to be talking about Miki.
"I'll kill him," I state, finding my voice. "I'll kill him."
"Aya, shh," Shibata says quietly, looking around. Some of the patrons in the store are now looking at us curiously, but I don't care.
"Where's Takashi now? Give me his number so I can stalk him and beat him."
I've never felt so violent before in my life. When Shibata doesn't budge, I start to walk out of the store. She grabs my arm.
"Let go!" I yell at her, drawing a gasp from an elderly woman paying for a carton of tea at the cash register.
I shake Shibata's hands off me and storm out the door. I don't know which way I'm headed. Any direction will do. I'm so angry that nothing matters.
"Aya, wait!" Shibata's voice calls to me.
I ignore her.
Suddenly I feel hands grab me again, and before I know it, I'm being pushed backwards towards a building, Shibata in front of me, her face angry like a tormented bull's.
"Get a grip!" she yells at me, pinning me against the wall.
I give her a crazed look. Is she insane? Get a grip?? I don't want to grip anything but the knife that will plunge through Takashi's eyeball and rip into the softness of his brain.
"Just stop and think. We don't have enough proof that he did it. Also, there's no way you could overpower him," she hisses angrily.
I try to fight her, but she's a lot stronger than I ever imagined. She's got my upper arms pinned, which severely limits what I can go. I'm not coordinated enough to do some magical jump kick from a standing position, so I stop struggling.
"What do you want me to do? Stand idle while he throws the fact that he had Miki killed in our faces as a threat?" I spit out.
"Yes," Shibata says through grit teeth, her jaw hard.
"I can't do that," I say, my voice turning into a desperate, pleading one. "I need to find him. Please, let me go. I can't rest until I find out why he did it."
"You're not going anywhere. Not as long as you're acting so bloodthirsty. Think. If you do something outside of the law, nothing is going to stop the police from coming down hard on you. They're not going to care about your situation. They're going to see your threat or crime or whatever you do to him as simply wrong. I'm not going to let you throw away your entire life because you're blinded by some personal vendetta."
I hate her. I don't want to believe her. She's so right, but this longing inside me is like a drug that overpowers me. Its cloying taste sends me reeling into the depths of deathly sweet hysteria and rage.
Involuntarily, I start to relax my body. She's right. She's right. She's right.
She notices my body relaxing because she lets go of her hold on me and backs up a few paces.
"Please trust me," she says in such an honest voice that I'm sucked into whatever it is that makes Shibata who she is. Warm, comfortable, and even safe feelings surround me. If I've got Shibata looking after me, I'll be okay. Just trust her. Trust her. Trust her. I repeat this in my mind until my heart rate goes down and I stop seeing red.
"I'm sorry," I stammer.
I'm still angry, but it's been quelled. The only question that races through my mind is about Takashi.
Who is he? Who is he really?
I still can't understand why he'd do such a thing.
If it even was him. I think it was, but if Shibata tells me to wait to make that conclusion, then I guess I have to.
"Come on. Go get some rest. Let me take you home," she says softly.
She must think that I've understood her and that all I have to do is go home and get some rest. She's partially right. I do understand what she's said, and I'm no longer about to fly off the handle and go on a killing spree. However, rest is not going to cure what I feel. It will only make it worse, since I'll be waking up with nobody beside me, the blank spaces that fill my life painful reminders of what I've lost.
I just nod, though, and she gently takes me by the arm and leads me to the station.
Once inside, I insist that I can find my own way home, but she doesn't listen. She takes me all the way to my apartment, and then comes in, helping me clean up my kitchen. I've lost my appetite for dinner, so I lie when she asks if I've eaten, and I tell her I was just cooking a meal for tomorrow to kill time. A white lie won't harm either of us.
She tells me to call her if I need to talk, and she leaves me by myself to my own thoughts.
By this time, my mind has returned to a blank state of shock. I take an emotionless bath and get into bed. When my head hits the pillow, that's when all the questions surface in my mind.
Who is Takashi? Why did he have Miki killed? What's he doing with Shiba-chan?
I fall asleep to those thoughts, unsure of what the new day will bring.
-
I'm almost finished going through her apartment, and I've been in contact with Miki's mom and Sugiura about legal details. I don't understand a word of it, although I try hard to. All I know is that I have to finish going through the apartment as quickly as I can.
In other words, the landlord wants the apartment empty so he can rent it out ASAP.
Tsuyoshi e-mails me and we get to chatting. It turns out his brother was sick, which is why the family went down to visit him. It was just influenza, but apparently, his mother is overprotective of her eldest son.
Wonder how Tsuyoshi feels about that?
"They mentioned Miki."
...
"He was about to ask me this favour. He said it was time. I told him to go ahead and ask me, but then he stopped and asked me if I trusted him. I had to say that I did, but I don't think he was convinced. He brought up Miki. He said he had a girl working with him recently but that she didn't trust him. He said that he fired her, but the way he said it sounded like a threat. Like he meant something else with the word 'fired' and that he might do that to me, too if I didn't trust him."
...
I can't think. I can't make anything out. Shibata's words don't make sense to me. They're not in my language. I just want to find Takashi and beat him senseless. He's got to be talking about Miki.
"I'll kill him," I state, finding my voice. "I'll kill him."
And thus the tension and the waiting are now obviously really getting to Aya. She's desperately seeking answers that need time and patience to show themselves, and right now she has neither. The anxiety of it all must be driving her up the wall.
Who is Takashi?
Indeed, who is this guy and what exactly is his scheme?
Why did he have Miki killed?
As Shiba-chan said, right now they stil haven't confirmed that he had her killed, or that it was even Miki he was referring to (for all we know he was talking about some other random woman that was working for him).
What's he doing with Shiba-chan?
What are his plans for her? Are they the same promises he made to Miki? What is this favour that he wants her to do? Why does she have to be the one to do it?
I fall asleep to those thoughts, unsure of what the new day will bring.
A new chapter. ;D
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Holy crap. O_O
I was just reading this all 'La lala lala.' and then it was all:
"Aya-chan, I need to meet you right now."
She sounds absolutely terrified.
I sat up in my chair and my jaw dropped. I read on at a fevered pace, rereading the things I'd skipped in my haste and finding myself completely drawn into this world, into Aya's world. When she saw red, so did I, when she strugged against Shibata, I found myself moving in my chair.
I'm so fascinated by everything that's going on, from the storyline, to the small details, to the way they interact with each other. You truly have a gift with words, friend.
And I swear I'm not high...
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For a second there, a part of my mind was chanting "sukeban"... then again it could have been Aya being very emotional. It's a big change from your previous chapters where it was all depressing.
I didn't know Shibata was that strong... or Aya not that strong x.x
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Aya always shocks me with her upper arm muscles..but thats in comparison to Miki so...hmm. But yeah, Id have my money on Shibata.
Wonderful chapter. Im going to ask something though...and I have probably said it before...but seriously..on a scale of 1 - 10. One being Im going to sob my eyes out and wish I werent alive in such a loveless world and Ten being sun shine, lollipops and puppies (a five being life) how happy is this story going to be?
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Alright, I've been settling on things now. I think I got the main theme of the story.
And the only thing I can say that Aya is slowly being driven insane o_o; Like, she's really shutting herself out like she's the only one who felt the pain of Miki's death. That is practically corrupting her mind and despite her claiming it was for the sake of Miki, I think in ways that Aya might end up becoming immoral towards the end of this story, with having many thoughts of murder and jumping at the chance like Ayu said. Which makes me say, if Ayu dies, then who else could keep Aya under control?
Seeing Aya as she is now, she has absolutely no regard for what Miki might say to her if she was a ghost somewhere, considering that she's acting upon her own selfish feelings and such...
It seems Aya is losing her sanity to the point of not being able to hear Miki's voice anymore... This definitely reminds me of Koe by Tsukiko Amano, whose song talks about how a lover is being driven insane by the lost of her loved one, including forgetting her loved one's voice because of her obsession with finding her loved one.
PV: http://youtube.com/watch?v=w38g6U2fZqA
Lyrics: http://www.cameraslens.com/englishkoe.php
(Good song by the way, love it a lot xD)
Anywho, I've said my words.
Write more <3
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That's very very nice of you to say, rndmnwierd. Thank you, although I'm not the one with a gift for words. That's Rokun or Estrea or someone else. But I'm glad I was able to make you feel things while reading.
Wonderful chapter. Im going to ask something though...and I have probably said it before...but seriously..on a scale of 1 - 10. One being Im going to sob my eyes out and wish I werent alive in such a loveless world and Ten being sun shine, lollipops and puppies (a five being life) how happy is this story going to be?
Hahaha, you know I can't answer that. It's supposed to be a surprise!
Good words, Yuuyami. And that's a haunting song. Thanks. Now let me ask you this - who is Takashi? I think that's one of the questions we have to be asking. Where'd he come from? What's he doing? Why's he doing what he's doing?
[dramatic cliffhanger music here]
edited because: um, make YOU feel things. Not myself. And to add: yeah, I imagine Aya as being very weak. I don't know why. And Shibata - or at least the way I've built her up over all these stories - seems to be able to do anything. So she's probably an aikido master, or something. Hahaha.
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I just read A Young Girl's Odyssey's last update right after reading WNTBD's last chapter and I found it a little strange because: 1. Miki is death in both stories and 2. there's all the conspiration thing(despite the fact that you said we're looking for conspirations that just aren't there I can't help but have that feeling) in both stories. Don't misinterpret me, the stories are totally different, but it was interesting seeing those 'connections'.
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I had almost exactly the same reaction to this chapter as rndmnwierd did. It was all fine and surprisingly happy and then... BAM. Painful, violent, emotions started breaking through the surface. Wonderful, just wonderful.
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Hahaha, really, ChiruChaCha? You think? I read the first parts of that story a while ago, but I could barely remember what happened until I just skimmed what I read now (forgive me, Rokun, but I've been so self-involved spinning out this tale that all other things have left my mind). I hope my subconscious didn't intentionally try to copy R's ideas. Hahaha! I'm flattered to be compared to him. :D
Chapter 27
The new day brings a splitting headache. I wake up in pain, and I don't want to get up. I look at the clock. Seven. I close my eyes and try to fall asleep, but the pain is too distracting. I start to get angry at my body. Why does it have to break down now of all times?
I get up, swallow some painkillers, and then get ready for the day, moving lethargically through my apartment.
I think about what happened last night. I was on the verge of running off, finding that man, and beating him senseless. The only problem is that I don't know where he lives or his last name, and neither does Shibata. I had forgotten that small fact.
It dawns on me now that what Shibata had done hadn't been to stop me from doing anything to him. She'd stopped me from doing something to myself. Who knows what trouble I would have gotten into if she'd let me run wild? I'm grateful to her for pushing some sense into me, but it doesn't make my anger dissipate one iota. Takashi is at the top of my list of hated people, and I have to find out who he is, where he is, why he did what he did...
The rest of my morning is spent at Miki's apartment finishing up my work there. I've emptied the place of all her furniture and most of her possessions. Now all I have left are some potted plants and cleaning tools like a broom and cleaning fluid. I decide to throw out the latter and take the former with me back to my apartment. They can keep my plants company. It'll be a bit crowded, but I can't let her precious babies die.
I carry the last of the trash out to the collection area and I go back in. I've put the two plants by the door so that the rest of the apartment is absolutely empty.
"Hey, Miki. It's finally clean in here," I try to joke aloud, my voice echoing in the bare room.
No reply comes.
I don't want to leave. I know that once I step out the door, I'll never be able to come back here again. I'll call Sugiura and tell him I'm finished, and he'll call whoever he needs to call. I'm sure that within days, a new tenant will be living here, and this place where I have so many memories will change forever. It'll die.
I walk back into the centre of the room and turn around slowly, looking at everything. It's so white and empty. There's no indication that a person ever lived in here. I walk into the bedroom and look around for the last time. I stand in the kitchen and an image of Miki cooking something flashes in my mind. I go back to the entranceway. I desperately want to cry, but the tears don't come. I can't force them. It worries me. Why can't I cry? This is one of the saddest things I have to do. I have to let go of this place that was practically a part-time home for me.
Frustrated that the tears aren't coming, I pick up the plants, take one last look, and then walk out the door, locking it after me.
I go home, call Sugiura, and then sit on my floor to watch television mindlessly, only then realising that my headache has gone away.
At five o'clock, I receive a phone call on my cell phone. It's Shibata. Her meeting must be over. I answer with a hello.
"Hi," she says without any indication she's going to continue.
I wait. I'm too impatient.
"Hi," I repeat. "What happened?"
The silence on her end stretches on. It becomes sombre.
"We talked about schedules."
That's the only thing she says. Usually she has a lot more to say.
"Okay," I say slowly. "What schedules?"
"Work and personal."
These short, one-sentence answers are disconcerting. It's like she's distracted, or she's trying to think of how to tell me something but is unsure how to. My temper has been short these days, so I blow up.
"Quit it with the cryptic act. If you have something to tell me-"
"Where are you?" she interrupts.
"At home. Why?"
"Stay put. I'm going there to meet you."
She hangs up before I can say anything, and I get a little mad at her. However, I'm more worried about what sort of news she could possibly bring.
I pace nervously, trying to mentally prepare myself for whatever I'm going to feel.
My doorbell rings and I race to the door to let Shibata in. She looks worried as she comes in and we skip all pleasantries.
"I had my meeting with Takashi. He... um..." she trails off distractedly. "I recorded our conversation."
"You what?!"
"Recorded it. And it was the right conversation to record. He talked about Miki again. And he threatened..." she trails off again. "Just listen. He reminded me of the favour he still has to call in, and that's where I'm starting the tape."
We sit down and she presses play.
"... remember?" comes a voice from the speaker. It must be Takashi's.
"I don't see why you think I don't trust you. What have I done to make myself look bad? " Shibata's voice asks.
There's a tense pause in their conversation.
"Do you remember that I told you about that girl who worked for us?"
There's another silence. I assume that Shibata nodded at that moment.
"Well, we promised her some things right before we fired her. We told her what she could get if she stayed with our team. She was trying to back out, so we had to tell her something good."
Takashi's voice is taking a strange turn. He doesn't sound so nice anymore.
"What did you tell her?" asks Shibata's small, nervous voice. It's partially an act to make them think they've got power, but it's mostly her real reaction. She's just as shocked as me to be hearing this.
Takashi's voice comes loud and clear through the speakers.
"Well, we told her what she wanted to hear. Grand world tour with whomever she wanted, sing for the people of the earth, benefit little communities in poor countries, give blind people hope, save forests, protect endangered animals. That girl was a philanthropist just waiting to bloom. And easy to play. Hell, I could have slept with her if I wanted. I'm so good at what I do."
Shibata's stunned silence on the tape matches my own stunned silence.
That outline for a trip around the world that Shibata had found. That hadn't been a vacation idea for me and Miki. That had been the thing we'd been looking for. We had had no idea what we were looking for, though, so of course we had classified it as something unrelated to her meetings. We had thought it was a sweet little Miki-esque thing, when in fact, it was a list of lies that Takashi had been telling her to keep her from quitting.
But how could she fall for that?? She was smarter than that. Way smarter to believe that all that could be handed to her on a silver platter. Takashi had somehow tempted her with some power. He had also somehow known that travelling around the world was what Miki wanted to do so badly.
It chills me. He must have been watching her for a while to know all the things he's shown he knows.
His motive, however, is still unclear. So far, it has all seemed like a game. Just something to do to kill time. But somehow, I sense that there's something bigger behind it. I need to find out what that is.
"Where does he live?" I ask, looking down at my hands. They're white.
"Just stay calm-"
"Don't tell me to stay calm!!" I yell. "Where is he??"
"I don't know. I couldn't get that information in the end."
"Then let's go find him and rip his guts out," I growl, standing up sharply, only to be pulled right back down by Shibata. My hip crashes into the arm of the couch and I wince as I sit back down to rub my injury.
"You're not going anywhere," Shibata snaps.
"What? Am I under house arrest?" I retort.
"Stop being stupid. You know I'm right."
I shut up because I do know that technically she's right. However, she doesn't understand what it feels like to be this close to the killer of the person you love. The rules change completely when you're in that situation.
"Just be quiet and listen."
I glower and continue to listen to the tape.
"... I'm calling in that favour," Takashi says in an icy tone. "I'll call you tonight with a location. Be there. One of us will meet you and give you instructions. And if you tell anybody, your most important friend might find herself having some problems."
Oh my god. That's me. That's me he's threatening to hurt. Just like he must've threatened Miki, he's threatened Shibata. Somehow he knows.
They wrap up the meeting, the mood changing completely to a very professional one. I hear them get up from their seats, put on their jackets, and walk out together. That's when Shibata stops the tape.
"So see why I couldn't just tell you? They've threatened harm to you again. I don't know how they know, I don't know what to do..."
I stare at the mini tape recorder, contemplating my entire existence. Maybe I'm a waste of space. Maybe if I didn't exist, Miki wouldn't have problems, Shibata wouldn't have problems... I wouldn't have problems.
"So do you still think this guy is innocent?" I ask bitterly.
Shibata, looking a little shocked, shakes her head.
"And what are you going to do about this mysterious meeting tonight? Are you going to go?"
I'm feeling oddly calm. I'm thinking clearly.
"I have no choice. I have to go, but I'll record my meeting. If I can get a confession, I can go straight to the police afterwards."
I smile inwardly. No, that's not what's going to happen. I've made up my mind. I'm going to this meeting with her. Shibata and her police. Hah. The police will thank me for taking care of Takashi when I'm through with him.
She must notice what I'm thinking because she gives me a hard stare, suddenly looking a whole lot more collected.
"You're not coming," she says with finality.
No. She's not going to pull this one on me again. I'm going. Nothing else matters but this.
But I won't argue with her. She knows me too well. I have to stop being so predictable. So Aya. I'm not Aya anymore. I stopped being her weeks ago. Now I'm someone else. I'm not sure who, but Aya's definitely lost and dead. This person I am now is all that's left.
"Fine," I say, pretending to give up. "But at least stay here until you have to go. I don't feel safe alone."
"Of course," she says softly, her voice changing completely.
I think I've fooled her. I don't even feel bad about it because it's for the better. If I can somehow find out where she's meeting Takashi, I can get there first and confront him. Find out why he did it. Maybe beat him with a shovel.
We sit and watch television together, neither of us speaking, neither of us suggesting we eat dinner.
At eight o'clock, her phone rings. My head shoots in her direction and I watch her like a hawk as she picks up and begins to speak. She doesn't say anything but "yes" and "I understand." She hangs up and looks at me.
"Was that him?" I ask.
"Yes. I'll have to leave soon."
"Where are you meeting him?" I ask casually.
"It might not be him I'm meeting. He said 'one of us' will be there," Shibata replies.
Details. If I can't get him, one of his lackeys will be good enough.
"Okay, but where?" I press.
She knows that I'm doing and she shoots me a disapproving look.
"You're going to stay here. I'm going to go out and take care of this. Your life is in danger," she reminds me.
"So is yours," I shoot back. "Stop trying to be the hero here."
Shibata just shakes her head. I look back at the television set and then back at her. I'm starting to feel restless. I need to find out where her meeting is.
But I have to play it calm.
I shrug and excuse myself to go to the washroom. I can feel her eyes on me as I walk away. She's watching me, making sure I don't do anything unexpected. I close the door to the washroom and turn on the tap, putting my hands under the lukewarm water. I need to find some way to go with her so that I can see for myself. I have a feeling it'll be Takashi there, not one of his henchmen. Now that I know what he did, I can finally look at him in the flesh and know that he killed my Miki.
Suddenly, I hear a door open and close rapidly. It's the front door.
I turn the tap off quickly and walk out of the washroom. Shibata's not in the apartment anymore. I look at the entrance. Her shoes are gone.
"Crap!" I swear out loud.
I grab my jacket and jump into a pair of shoes, leaving the apartment and not bothering to lock the door. The elevator is in service. She must be using it. I opt to take the stairs, and I race down them, running like I've never run before in my life.
Shibata's gone off on her own to find the killer that I'm supposed to confront. Me. It's my business. The reason why I made a call to arms was to get me face to face with Miki's killer.
I reach the front foyer and I see the front door just closing. I run and burst out into the dark outside. I look around wildly and see a figure just turning a corner. It's Shibata. I follow quickly. Once I round the corner, I have a good view of her. She's walking straight down the street. I cautiously follow, sticking close to the buildings and ready to jump into a corner at any given moment. She doesn't turn back, however. She doesn't think she's being followed. She thinks I'm just getting out of the washroom, discovering that she's snuck off, maybe yelling out that I hate her, and then giving up.
I follow her for twenty minutes, the whole time wondering where the meeting place is and what the favour Shibata has to do is.
We finally come to a stop. I keep back and kneel behind a car as I watch Shibata get into a car that's parked across the street from a bakery. I can see someone else in the car with her, but I can't see who it is since the car is facing away from me. They talk for a few minutes, and then Shibata gets out carrying something I can't make out. She looks both ways and then crosses the street.
The car drives off.
I take a deep breath. This is my chance.
Looking both ways, I cross the street.
-
I carry the last of the trash out to the collection area and I go back in. I've put the two plants by the door so that the rest of the apartment is absolutely empty.
"Hey, Miki. It's finally clean in here," I try to joke aloud, my voice echoing in the bare room.
Another difficult, but necessary step in Aya's recovery. She now has to realize and accept that this is no longer Miki's apartment. (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c340/J-F-C/cry.gif)
Well, we told her what she wanted to hear. Grand world tour with whomever she wanted, sing for the people of the earth, benefit little communities in poor countries, give blind people hope, save forests, protect endangered animals. That girl was a philanthropist just waiting to bloom. And easy to play.
Told her what she wanted to hear? Just by admitting that shows that he's got something secret planned, and/or he's a disreputable businessman. He wants to know that he can trust Shiba-chan? Why should she (or anyone) trust HIM after he says something like this? Miki couldn't have really belived this BS, could she? (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c340/J-F-C/crazy.gif)
Hell, I could have slept with her if I wanted. I'm so good at what I do.
Heh, dude is awfully confident in himself....if only he knew. :rolleyes:
That outline for a trip around the world that Shibata had found. That hadn't been a vacation idea for me and Miki. That had been the thing we'd been looking for. We had had no idea what we were looking for, though, so of course we had classified it as something unrelated to her meetings. We had thought it was a sweet little Miki-esque thing, when in fact, it was a list of lies that Takashi had been telling her to keep her from quitting.
OSHIT!!! What happened to that paper??? :OMG:
"... I'm calling in that favour," Takashi says in an icy tone. "I'll call you tonight with a location. Be there. One of us will meet you and give you instructions. And if you tell anybody, your most important friend might find herself having some problems."
Oh my god. That's me. That's me he's threatening to hurt. Just like he must've threatened Miki, he's threatened Shibata. Somehow he knows.
Fuck, could THAT have been what got Miki killed? Was she in the middle of doing whatever "favour" they demanded of her and she died because of it? And how COULD they know about the "most important friend"? They'd have to have a pretty serious network of spies to get that type of info. I dunno why but I hearing "yakuza" in my head the more I read this.
:stunned:
I stare at the mini tape recorder, contemplating my entire existence. Maybe I'm a waste of space. Maybe if I didn't exist, Miki wouldn't have problems, Shibata wouldn't have problems... I wouldn't have problems.
And reading this makes me wish more and more (even on top of the whole "Miki being dead" thing) that this whole scenario is just Aya's bad dream that she'll wake up from any minute. :depressed:
I have to stop being so predictable. So Aya. I'm not Aya anymore. I stopped being her weeks ago. Now I'm someone else. I'm not sure who, but Aya's definitely lost and dead. This person I am now is all that's left.
Above all else, this is what scared me the most. Not the fact that it was said, but the fact that it may actually be true. :stoned:
"You're going to stay here. I'm going to go out and take care of this. Your life is in danger," she reminds me.
"So is yours," I shoot back. "Stop trying to be the hero here."
Friendship can be a wonderful, powerful, and strange thing all at once. Both Aya and Shiba-chan want to protect the other (as well as find out if Takeshi really did kill Miki), yet in order to do so they have to risk their own life, which is not what the other wants. :k-mad:
I keep back and kneel behind a car as I watch Shibata get into a car that's parked across the street from a bakery. I can see someone else in the car with her, but I can't see who it is since the car is facing away from me. They talk for a few minutes, and then Shibata gets out carrying something I can't make out. She looks both ways and then crosses the street.
Some type of package, I'll bet. If these guys ARE yakuza, it's either some (dangerous) delivery to a rival gang...or they've given Shiba-chan a weapon and have told her to kill someone. :scared:
-
Aa! Aya has done something wrong by moving out from behind that car...
My heart ached a little at the thought of giving up Miki's apartment and such but i had a good ROFL at Shibata making a dash for it. Thsi whole story is just getting tense..i wanna know how it ends!!
-
I'll start this chapter with an apology for what I've written. I'm sorry that the technical details are highly unrealistic. I don't know how police investigations are actually conducted. Maybe I should have done some research, but it's too late for that now, huh? But like I said, the whole murder mystery is a backdrop for Aya and Shiba-chan's other adventure (emotional or whatever).
And finally, a thank you to all those who've been sticking with it and reading despite the sad moments, the stupid moments, and the "geez, OTN, that would never happen in real life" moments.
Chapter 28
When I'm almost all the way across the street, I see Shibata slip into the bakery. I step up my pace and run up to the door. I shut my eyes tightly for a millisecond, and then once I'm ready, I push the door open.
The place is empty of customers except for Shibata. She's almost at the counter. The clerk is off at the other end cleaning the counter. He looks young. Maybe around our age.
"Shibata," I call out.
Her back shoots up straight, and she turns around, surprised. It's my turn to be surprised, though, because I can now see what she's carrying: a gun.
"What-" I start to ask, but she walks over to me and grabs my arm, pulling me into the corner and hushing me up.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she whispers harshly.
"I followed you," I stutter, now a little scared.
What's going on? What does Shibata think she's doing with a gun?
"Keep your mouth shut," she orders me. She looks around and then back at me. "They asked me to rob the bakery."
"You're going to rob a ba-" I begin to exclaim in surprise, but Shibata slaps a hand over my mouth.
"Of course not. I'm going to ask the clerk to call the police. Takashi is waiting for me in the back. It's a test to see if I trust him and will do anything he says. He doesn't know I'm double-crossing him."
Call the police?
Takashi's here?
No. No police. Me and Takashi. That's it. That's all I need.
I look at Shibata carefully from head to toe. She's carrying the gun in her left hand. She looks like she's on her guard, but not because she's expecting any trouble from me.
She looks back at me, matching my neutral expression. She can't read me this time. I know it. She thinks I'm on a certain wavelength, but I'm not. She backs away a few steps and then turns around to go speak to the clerk, who is now standing at the cash register and eyeing us curiously. Cautiously.
Shibata takes three steps, and my mind snaps.
Reality. Takashi's here. Shibata has a gun. Takashi killed Miki.
Lost in the moment, submerged in the idea, I lunge forward and grab the gun from Shibata's hand, pushing her violently and as hard as I can to the floor. She falls with a cry.
Sorry, Shiba-chan, I think in my head briefly, but contriteness leaves as other feelings continually overwhelm me.
I'm going to kill that murderer.
Before I can hear the thud of Shibata hitting the floor, I crash through the back door while I hear the bakery clerk start to shout.
I slam the door shut and I find myself outside in an alley near some trash bins. I look around wildly.
I can see a figure leaning against the wall. He's smoking a cigarette. It's him.
"You bastard!" I scream, holding the gun in both hands and raising it to point it at his face.
He spits out his cigarette and walks out of the shadows, raising his hands slowly.
"You bastard," I repeat. "I'm gonna shoot your face off."
He raises his face to me, but instead of fear in his eyes, I can see that he's smiling. He looks cocky. Amused. It serves to infuriate me.
"Don't laugh!" I yell, shaking the gun at him. "I'll do it. I'm not chicken."
He starts to laugh out loud, and I'm about to yell again when I hear the back door open.
Shibata's out.
I don't look back.
"Don't try and stop me, Shibata. This is my fight, not the police's," I call out over my shoulder, my eyes not leaving Takashi's.
I want to rip his eyes out. I want blood. I want him to scream.
"Aya, please put the gun down," comes Shibata's steady voice from behind.
I hear the click of another gun.
I can't believe it. She's threatening me with a gun? Where'd she get it? Who the hell does she think she is? She isn't justice. She can't decide whether I'm right or not. She doesn't get that privilege.
Angry and disbelieving, I move off to the side to look at my former best friend while keeping my gun trained on Takashi, my rage increasing exponentially at this betrayal.
When I see a tall man holding Shibata's shoulders and pointing a gun at her head, I start to realise just how royally I have screwed up.
I don't move while Takashi chuckles.
"I think it's priceless," he states. "You can't even organise a sharp double cross. You're really stupid, huh?"
"Shut up!" I scream.
I try to catch my breath. I'm finding it difficult to fill my lungs with air.
This is a very bad situation. I have to think through it carefully, so I have to breathe and stay calm.
"What's going on here?" I ask shakily.
"This is how you organise the perfect double cross," Takashi hisses. "Did you think I needed money from some second rate bakery? The only reason you're here is because we lured you out with bait. Both of you. You're not smarter than me. You're much, much stupider."
Bait?
They knew Shibata wouldn't actually carry this out?
They knew I'd come here?
That means... they know. They've known the entire time that Shibata wasn't serious about working with them. They've somehow known that I've been waiting in the background for the perfect opportunity.
I look over at Shibata, and the expression on her face clearly shows that she's coming to the same realisations as I am.
"What did I ever do to you?" I ask, the volume of my voice going down several notches as I begin to feel less and less secure.
"What did you ever do to me?" Takashi asks in disbelief. "What did you do to me?! You hurt me. You killed me. You gave me something and then carved it out of my body with a dull knife. I bled to death because of you!" he hollers.
"What are you talking about?!" I yell back. "I've never met you before in my life!"
He starts to laugh like a disturbed, maniacal clown. His handsome features seem to fade as an aura of insanity settles over him like a veil.
"Never met? Oh, we've met. We were meant to be together."
I swallow my instant nausea at those words. What is this crazy man talking about? Who is he?
"In 2004, I photographed you during a promotional video shoot. You complimented me on my work. We had an instant connection. And then you ignored me after that, no matter how many times I called."
2004? That was six years ago! And how could I remember him? He never called me. Or at least if he did, my manager didn't bother to tell me because she figured he was unstable and that I should never work for him again.
"I wanted to work with you again, but you wouldn't see me. I wanted to be with you like I was meant to, but no. You broke my heart. I've been waiting for years to let you know. Your face has haunted me all this time."
This is not happening. I'm feeling dizzy and sick and a billion other things. This is some nightmare within a nightmare. A cheap b-grade movie with the obsessed fan and the harassed celebrity. This isn't supposed to really happen.
"Why'd you kill Miki?" I ask into the stillness of the air that seems to have enveloped this tiny corner of the world.
"Why?" Takashi repeats my question. "Because I want to take everything away from you. I know what she meant to you. I've been watching you for years. You and her, and you," he nods towards Shibata.
Shibata's chin raises just a fraction of a millimetre in defiance.
"I killed her because I had to teach you a lesson. To show you what it feels like."
No.
"She's better off dead. That girl was too stupid for her own good. Blinded entirely by love. She fell for every single word I said because I made her think that by doing the things I said, she and you could be happy. She did it all for you, and look where that got her."
No.
"You played right into our hands tonight. Six years of watching you. I knew you'd react like this. I knew you'd try to find me, so I fed you enough clues to bring you here."
Blinded by love? Watching me for six years? Teach me a lesson?
My head pounds, a vacuum of silence and numbness swallowing it and making it feel swollen. I try and grasp at a course of action in order to input it into my system and carry it out.
Teach me a lesson.
Miki's death was a senseless, meaningless act in order to teach me a "lesson." Takashi used her love for me to trick her into going along with him.
The anger I've felt the past few weeks is light years behind the anger I feel now.
The word "anger" shouldn't be used.
Nor rage. Nor fury.
There is no word in any language that can describe the chaos that has overtaken my mind. Only action.
My finger tightens on the trigger of the gun. Shibata doesn't exist to me. Nothing does. Only this gun and the vision of Takashi's head exploding into bloody bits of flesh, bone, and grey matter.
"Die," I speak in a low, unstable, dark tone.
"You think that gun is loaded with bullets?! Takashi screams out suddenly in laughter. "You think I'd actually give Ayumi-chan there a real, loaded gun when I was about to play her?"
"He's right, Aya," Shibata says from behind me.
I hear the man holding her hit her, but I'm too far gone to look or care. Too far gone to react to any pain that is not my own.
Takashi has played us completely.
With a shaking hand, I throw the gun at the wall behind the trash bins. The thin metal of the bin makes a loud, hollow sound as the gun hits it and then clatters to a halt on the pavement.
"She was everything to me!" I scream at the top of my lungs. "Everything!"
Then I let out another scream so chilling that I feel sick hearing it. I clutch at my head as though someone's trying to rip it off. My nails claw into my scalp and I scream until my breath runs out.
"You'll rot in hell!"
I don't know what to do anymore. I have no weapon. Just my bare hands. I want to claw him open with my fingernails and tear out his organs excruciatingly slowly.
Just before I can launch myself at him, I hear the footsteps of a group of people running.
"Freeze!" bellows a man's voice.
"Drop your weapon!"
"Get on the floor!"
This little corner of the world descends into pandemonium, and suddenly there are lights and yelling and pushing. I see Shibata hit the ground before the man holding her can do anything. I find myself surrounded by people in police uniforms, and I watch, my mind detached from my body, as Takashi and the other man are wrestled to the ground, handcuffed, and dragged away. The bakery clerk appears, and I come to understand how the police were informed.
The officers confront me and ask me question after question, but it all just sounds like a cacophony of senseless dribble. I lose all sense of time, and before I know it, Sugiura is there. I don't know what he's saying, but he looks so disappointed in me. He moves off and gestures to the officers to stop questioning me for now. They back away, and suddenly Shibata and I are left alone in our little space, the officers just down the alleyway.
Shaking, I look at Shibata. She has a giant blanket wrapped around her. It's cold. I haven't noticed. She has an extra one in her hand, and she walks towards me with it, reaching to drape it over me. I grab onto the edges and hold it tightly to me, but my shivering won't stop.
Without another word, Shibata walks to the trash bins and gropes for something we both know is there and that the police don't know about. I watch, empty, as she pulls the gun up into the light.
Then she disarms it. The bullets fall into her hand one by one.
Disarms. Bullets.
It was loaded.
I stare at her.
"You said that the gun wasn't loaded," I say.
My voice sounds like a foreign entity. It belies the mess of feelings welling up in me again. A bit of anger, but mostly betrayal. She lied to me.
"They made one stupid mistake," she says quietly. "Takashi loaded it right in front of me before he handed it over."
She looks at me guardedly.
She lied to me to save her own skin. If I had shot Takashi, the other man would have shot Shibata, and she'd be dead right now. Self-preservation.
I study her carefully.
No. Self-preservation wasn't her reason. Not this time.
"You didn't want me to kill him," I state.
Now I understand. This rage that has been eating me alive for all these weeks slowly moves aside like a cloud on a windy day, and for a few seconds, I can see what she's thinking.
I contemplate morality. I contemplate justice.
She shrugs in response.
"Would you have?" she asks, her tone casual, but her eyes thirsting for an answer.
In my short moment of clarity, I know that the morally sound thing is to say "no."
But that's just what my moment of clarity is: short.
I look up at the dark, cloudy sky, tears in my eyes. I look at the vastness of that dark space up there.
Empty empty empty.
Miki's gone.
And I do not answer Shibata's question.
~The end~
-
Epilogue
I'm in big trouble for a while, but I'm so numb to the world that I barely notice. They could lock me up in prison for the rest of my life and I wouldn't care. At least I wouldn't have to think for myself.
I hear everything. Takashi's confession comes out smoothly. He knows he has lost. Maybe he thinks by admitting to everything, some soft part in me will forgive him. He's made it clear that he hates me, but he's still in love with me. He's a sick, sick man. Something's wrong in his head. Unfortunately for him, such a soft part in me doesn't exist. Not anymore.
I learn how he did what he did, and I learn the detailed reasons behind it all. How he came across Miki trying to call me from a payphone the day she never came home, and how he kidnapped her and beat her and pushed her into the river as she tried to fight back before losing consciousness.
But I've stopped caring about the details and the why of it all.
I've stopped caring about anything.
Shibata checks in with me. I know she's afraid I'm going to hurt or kill myself, but she shouldn't worry. If I killed myself, Takashi would read about it in the newspaper and he'd laugh victoriously. He'd win. If he can't have me, it's better off that I'm dead so that nobody else can have me. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of killing myself and finishing off his job.
I pass each day pointlessly. I don't know what to do with my time. I don't talk to my family. I don't talk to Miki's family. I can't face them. I have nothing to say to them.
I've concluded that whatever Miki and I had, it was not meant to be. We were bad for each other. I made her lose herself. She had her head so completely wrapped around thoughts of me that she didn't think about her own safety. It got her killed. I got her killed. She could have written ten thousand letters telling me not to blame myself, but I will always be guilty.
Miki once said we were cooler than destiny.
She didn't believe in destiny. She didn't believe our meeting was fated. Maybe that's because it wasn't supposed to be. Our destinies were not supposed to cross paths. And if they did, there would be only one end.
Death. Heartbreak.
If she hadn't died, I would have. If neither of us had died, we would have fought viciously and hated each other in the end.
We never had a chance at a happy ending. And now, because I defied fate and tried to be with her, my punishment is to be heartbroken forever. Her punishment is to be dead at such a young age. Frankly, I'd rather switch places with her.
I keep a sheet of paper with me all the time these days. Whenever I miss her or whenever I'm angry or sad, I pull it out and read what's written on it. It amplifies what I'm feeling. If I'm angry, I become angrier. If I'm sad, I fall further into depression. If I miss her, I start to cry and wish I was dead with her.
The sheet of paper has several lines of verse on it. It's an excerpt from Miki's song. Her very bad song. Her last song.
I take out the paper and read it.
And if darkness comes and steals you away,
And if darkness comes and steals me away,
We don't have to worry,
We don't have to cry.
Our feelings are boundless
Across space and time.
We'll carry on forever,
Together, hand in hand,
Our hearts will be connected.
We don't need to walk the land.
Our souls cannot be parted.
They're mixed into one.
This is what we are
She's right. Her song is right, and it's the worst thing that could happen to us. We're still attached to each other, and because of that, I can never feel at peace. She will always be haunting me. She is half of me and she has gone far away. Beyond space and time.
We'll never meet again, and so that means forever and ever, I will be incomplete. That is my destiny.
"We're cooler than destiny."
No, Miki. No we're not. We're slaves to it.
-The end of it all-
-
Ah, i liked how this story connects to all the others. It makes sense now why they always end it a weird way...
BUt yeah, I couldnt help cry a little..
And now Im gonna climb between my warm blankets and mull over how depressing life and destiny is.
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Her back shoots up straight, and she turns around, surprised. It's my turn to be surprised, though, because I can now see what she's carrying: a gun.
...
"Keep your mouth shut," she orders me. She looks around and then back at me. "They asked me to rob the bakery."
I KNEW IT!!! :o
I'm going to ask the clerk to call the police. Takashi is waiting for me in the back. It's a test to see if I trust him and will do anything he says. He doesn't know I'm double-crossing him.
How does Shiba-chan know that Takashi's in the back? If this is supposed to be a test of trust, she shouldn't know that. (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c340/J-F-C/scratch.gif)
Incidentally, this is the first mistake that Shiba-chan has made in this story...she's told Aya that Takashi's here. Knowing how Aya's been out for the guy's head, AND the fact that Shiba-chan has a gun (which may or may not actually be loaded)...either way, this won't end well.
"Aya, please put the gun down," comes Shibata's steady voice from behind.
I hear the click of another gun.
NANIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII???? :OMG:
This is how you organise the perfect double cross," Takashi hisses. "Did you think I needed money from some second rate bakery? The only reason you're here is because we lured you out with bait. Both of you.
Sunnovabitch the bastard knew. HE KNEW!!! :angry1:
"Never met? Oh, we've met. We were meant to be together."
I swallow my instant nausea at those words. What is this crazy man talking about? Who is he?
"In 2004, I photographed you during a promotional video shoot. You complimented me on my work. We had an instant connection. And then you ignored me after that, no matter how many times I called."
2004? That was six years ago! And how could I remember him? He never called me. Or at least if he did, my manager didn't bother to tell me because she figured he was unstable and that I should never work for him again.
"I wanted to work with you again, but you wouldn't see me. I wanted to be with you like I was meant to, but no. You broke my heart. I've been waiting for years to let you know. Your face has haunted me all this time."
Oh god he's an obsessed wota! Not only that, he's an obsessed Aya-wota! That means...this whole thing was NEVER about Miki, or Shiba-chan. They were just pawns in his demented scheme to get to Aya! :frustrated:
Shibata walks to the trash bins and gropes for something we both know is there and that the police don't know about. I watch, empty, as she pulls the gun up into the light.
Then she disarms it. The bullets fall into her hand one by one.
Disarms. Bullets.
It was loaded.
I stare at her.
"You said that the gun wasn't loaded," I say.
Shiba-chan knew that she couldn't let Aya go through with it. Seeking payback is one thing, but to actually take a life...to watch the glimmer fade away from another person's eyes...she couldn't let Aya become what Takashi was. Once you do something like that, you're never the same. No matter how much you try to forget it, you'll always have that dark spot in your soul. You'll know it's there, your friends will know it's there, and in Aya's case, the public/her fans would know it's there. She would no longer be the same Aya that Miki and everyone else knew and loved...she'd just be someone else who happened to have the same name and the same face. :stoned:
Takashi's confession comes out smoothly. He knows he has lost. Maybe he thinks by admitting to everything, some soft part in me will forgive him.
The fucker had better not be trying to cop a plea bargain. :scolding:
I've concluded that whatever Miki and I had, it was not meant to be. We were bad for each other. I made her lose herself. She had her head so completely wrapped around thoughts of me that she didn't think about her own safety. It got her killed. I got her killed. She could have written ten thousand letters telling me not to blame myself, but I will always be guilty.
I hate to say it, but when Aya starts thinking stuff like this, I'd have to say Takashi might have won after all. He said he wanted to punish Aya for what he thinks she did to him, and right now, she's punishing herself for the whole scenario.
The thing that's so sad is that she's blaming the love that Miki had for her, saying that Miki died because she cared so much for her. Love isn't a "cause", it's not a "fault" that people have. It's not a bad thing. :k-sad:
We'll never meet again, and so that means forever and ever, I will be incomplete. That is my destiny.
"We're cooler than destiny."
No, Miki. No we're not. We're slaves to it.
This makes me realize, even though Miki was...well, Miki, she could still be an optimist, a dreamer, when she had the right reason to be.
Sad thing is, I'm inclined to side with Aya on this one. (http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c340/J-F-C/cry.gif)
Awesome ending dude. You kept the suspense and the drama all the way up to the end. I gotta say, for a split-second there, I thought that Shiba-chan was going to double-cross Aya. I hate and yet I love endings like this. While it sucks ass, it's also more "real", because the "happy ending" doesn't always happen. Still, at the risk of sounding like a really sappy fanboy, any chance of an "alternate/happy version" for the ending? Or at least one where Aya kicks the living shit out of Takashi and gets away with it?
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For some reason I felt the ending was really abrupt. Then again, I was hoping for an ending like JFC's...
Your stories always end up so depressing T_T, except for Love infinity.
Anyway, thanks for another story! I think this is probably the longest one I've ever read from you, I think...
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We'll never meet again, and so that means forever and ever, I will be incomplete. That is my destiny.
"We're cooler than destiny."
No, Miki. No we're not. We're slaves to it.
this actually made me cry!
will u ever write a fic that won´t make me cry? :'(
it was great....really great!
i hope more fics comming soon ^^
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*fights back the tears* I don't know what to say..I'm left kind of speechless...the story was really well writen but I found myself teary eyed with every update :gyaaah: but then again I enjoy such stories :-X They may be slaves to destiny in this one but who knows what tomorrow will bring (prehaps a new continuation where they are both magically alive :ding:) Yes, I've choosen to be delusional then to be sucked into the depression! :cool2: But once again thank you very much for another glimpse into your GAM world.
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-The end of it all-
Just let me say "Pfffffffffffft" xD
Hmmmmmmmmmm, intense ending, just as expected... actually it made me think that the whole story is pretty much centered in Aya. Well, maybe it was obvious from the beginning but I just noticed xD
It felt for me as if Aya and Miki were leaving each other with the screaming child(the screaming child being a life of suffering for the loss of the other one) couse first Aya was supposed to die but is saved by a miracle so it's Miki's turn. It really does give food for thought...
One last thing...
any chance of an "alternate/happy version" for the ending?
Please? ::) xD
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Dear lord that was powerful! You know what, I forbid you from writing! :P Your skills are just too powerful no matter what direction you go in, powerful enough to manipulate people and envoke very powerful emotions! If you ever start publishing, you could take over the world!!! Actually, if i help you can I get Hawaii? ;D
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Yup, it felt sort of abrupt. But that's just OTN1's tactic to make us crave for more... :p
I'd like to comment further, but right now brain's not cooperating. Maybe I will, once I get to analyze all I've been missing lately.
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I look forward to any further comment you might have. No pressure, though! If the words aren't there, they aren't there, and that's all. ;) I haven't really seen you around much, so I guess there's a lot for you to catch up with.
I've tried thinking of an "alternate, happy" way to end it, but I can't. If I ever think of something, I'll indulge you.
Frankly, I'm glad this story is over. Maybe that's the true secret behind the abruptness of the ending. It's not a special OTN technique. Just laziness, or the little spark going out.
One of these days, I have to write something not depressing. Happy and fluffy. Pointless. Plotless. Stupid. Lovable. Like I used to. I think people might actually start to like me if I do! Thanks again for reading and/or commenting. I don't think I say that enough, but I really do appreciate it.
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We do like you and your writing, so don't let that spark die! Force it to live so you may write another day!
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Wow, it was like a song where the end just cuts off, but it's supposed to be like that. Like, dundun dun dundun dun dundun dun-! Just, god. That was so sad. And still, extremely fitting that they die inside without each other. Aya should have shot him... Then Shiba would die, she would go to jail and maybe get shanked in prison one day...
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Wow, it was like a song where the end just cuts off, but it's supposed to be like that. Like, dundun dun dundun dun dundun dun-! Just, god. That was so sad. And still, extremely fitting that they die inside without each other. Aya should have shot him... Then Shiba would die, she would go to jail and maybe get shanked in prison one day...
XD XD XD
....You have very unique comments
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Hey, rndmnwierd, I like the comparison of my story with a song that has an abrupt ending. Now I can say "I meant to do that" about the rushed feeling. :D Hahaha!!
I couldn't end What Needed to be Done and Love x 2 - 1 happily, but because every story needs a sliver of sunshine (and because you all asked for a happy ending), I came up with this. It was quite spontaneous. I didn't intend to write it, but suddenly it was written and finished in front of me.
Perfection
In a bright meadow far from Japan, far from Earth, far from any known world, two girls meet.
"What happened to you?" inquires one, eyeing the other's torn and bloody clothing curiously.
"Plane crash, I think..." comes the puzzled but calm response. "You?"
The first girl to speak opens up her arms in a wide gesture and takes a look at her own wet clothing.
"I got beaten up beside a river. I'm assuming I was pushed in," she says resignedly.
They both know why they're here. They both recognise each other, but they don't know each other since they've never met before.
"You're not her, are you," states the drowned victim.
"No. And you're not her," the plane crash victim says.
Somehow they know this.
"Where do you suppose this is?" Drowned asks, looking up at the clear blue sky, not a cloud in sight.
Plane Crash mimics the action and squints as the light from the sun hits her eyes.
"I don't know. A judgement period?"
Drowned nods in acknowledgement, but she doesn't agree. The truth is that Plane Crash doesn't believe it either. It's simply something to say.
The weather is so beautiful that they decide by silent, mutual agreement to begin strolling through the greenery, unaware of where they're headed.
"What day is it today?"
"October twenty-sixth," Plane Crash replies.
"Nah, it's already November."
They look at each other, another mutual, silent wave of agreement passing between them. So they come from different worlds or different times. It doesn't matter. Not here in this place where "world" has no meaning.
They walk quietly. They reach the end of the meadow and come upon an expansive beach that stretches on for an eternal length. The sand is the pure white kind found only in tropical vacation brochures, the sea a multitude of colours of green and blue shades. The steady progression of the shades, from the pale blue of the shoreline to the deep blues and greens of the water where sky and sea seem to meet and become one at the horizon, takes both girls' breath away. They stand at the invisible and impossibly sharp boundary line that divides meadow and sea, contemplating the myriad of colours they can see, perhaps seeing some of those colours for the first time in their lives.
"Beautiful," utters Drowned.
"Mmhm," agrees Plane Crash.
It seems that for twenty years they stand there taking in the scenery. Perhaps twenty years do pass. Who can say? Time has no meaning, no authority here.
"Do you think there are others here?" Plane Crash asks, breaking the silence.
Drowned tears her eyes away from the ocean view and looks behind at the never-ending meadow. Not a soul is in sight.
"There must be," she finally says with a confidence she has never felt before.
This place fills her with power. Good and positive energy that makes her think she can fly if she just tries. This is the kind of power that most people feel only in dreams.
"Think we should find them?
Drowned stays quiet for a long time, the question echoing in her head.
"Or we could get to know each other first. Explore this place first. I have a feeling we'll have plenty of time to find whoever else is here."
Plane Crash nods and lets the words roll around in her head like the waves she sees before her.
"Okay," she consents after five years of consideration. "Let's do that."
She holds her hand out to Drowned, who by this point has dried off in the pleasant heat. Drowned looks at the pale, outstretched hand, and without another thought, she grasps it in her own.
Smiling, the two cross the threshold and walk onto the silky soft sand of the beach. They walk and walk and walk until they agree to stop, not a word passing between them the whole way. They approach the water, kick off their shoes, and step in. It's delightfully warm, and they wade in further until their knees are submerged.
"Are we being reborn?" Plane Crash asks.
Drowned shrugs.
"Maybe we're getting a second chance."
"Second chance... maybe..." echoes Plane Crash.
"Maybe our worlds weren't perfect like this one. We're finally getting our break."
For a moment, Plane Crash remembers the person she's left behind far away in that other world she's come from. It's all a distant memory, though, and the person in front of her now is the same person as the one she knows, only completely different. Such a paradox, in this strange place of no rules, is completely sensible.
Drowned has the exact same thoughts.
"Let's forget everything and start anew," Plane Crash proposes.
Drowned grins.
"Nice to meet you," she says, extending her hand for a shake.
"Nice to meet you, too," Plane Crash replies, extending her own hand.
Drowned grabs it, yanks Plane Crash forward, and then with two hands, throws her into the water with a laugh.
As Plane Crash shrieks half in anger, half in amusement, her head goes under the water and she comes face to face with the world under the sea. She smiles in wonder. She likes it here.
Twisting around deftly with skill she's never had before, she hones in on Drowned's bare legs and reaches out to grab them in order to throw the girl off balance.
Just before she does this, she realises that maybe this is not a judgement period. Maybe this is just a perfect, eternal moment.
~End~
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You're a romantic! There's nothing wrong with that, but... I never considered the possibility of you being that way. :p
Reading this made me think of three things mostly: the last scene of a novel, a scene from Strangers in Paradise, and the plot of Skyhigh manga. But all those three were darker than this, hehe.
Abrupt endings aside, I enjoyed the reading. ;)
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That was beautiful. See, I knew you had it in you! You don't always have to destroy them, it's just easier...
Hey, rndmnwierd, I like the comparison of my story with a song that has an abrupt ending. Now I can say "I meant to do that" about the rushed feeling. Hahaha!!
Lol, no problem. I do occasionally pluck sense from my brain and write it down.
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If you ever start publishing, you could take over the world!!! Actually, if i help you can I get Hawaii? ;D
Can I call dibs on Japan?
EDIT: If not Japan, can I get Hong Kong? I just want somewhere I can get sweet electronics/tech schwag. ;D ;D ;D
Perfection
That was nice. Fate did have a way for them to be together. :)
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I was wondering how you were going to end it. ^^
But seriosuly, are you happy with this ending? I know that you are deep down a true romantic but I mean...yeah...are you happy with this as the last piece?
Its a wonderful chapter that, believe it or not, I didnt cry over. No Bullshit. hahaha. Thanks for another wonderful story
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That alternate ending really brought closure. It wasn't too overly romantic, and it wasn't depressing. It was... nice. Thanks for the alternate (er... I guess if it is one)!
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You're a romantic! There's nothing wrong with that, but... I never considered the possibility of you being that way. :p
HAHAHA! Yes, I am. It's embarrassing.
But seriosuly, are you happy with this ending? I know that you are deep down a true romantic but I mean...yeah...are you happy with this as the last piece?
Yeah, I'm happy with it. If this were to be the very last piece I wrote that wrapped up this world I've created, then I would be happy with that.
But, I know never to say "this is the true end, and I mean it this time!" because sometimes more ideas come out of nowhere. :D
Thanks again for the kind comments. Back to Friday!
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OTN1!!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! :frustrated: I hate you!!! :bleed eyes: YOU made me wailed and sobbed like a demented person! Please please please :pleeease: :pleeease: do a more happy ending, like they were being reborn with a little of past memories or something! I can't stand this! They were so good together, yet torn apart by destiny which made them one in the first place! It's too cruel. It's like there's no hope in your paradox world. I beg of you, don't end it like this! :pleeease:
Every time I finished reading each of the series, I've got a sinking feeling, :imdead: and in this one Miki was killed! Noooooooooooooo!!!! :OMG: :OMG: :OMG: How could you do that!!! :scolding: I know the ending is not that sad but, THEY'VE DIED!! So it means, if you want you can do another closure that's far far happier than the last one. I'm repeating myself, but please think about it. You'd do another one right?? RIGHT?!!
Ahem...well, after letting go my emotions, here's my review from a more stable point of view,
"You bastard," I repeat. "I'm gonna shoot your face off."
Yes Aya, please do! I hate him as much as you do!
..."What did you ever do to me?" Takashi asks in disbelief. "What did you do to me?! You hurt me. You killed me. You gave me something and then carved it out of my body with a dull knife. I bled to death because of you!" he hollers.
...."In 2004, I photographed you during a promotional video shoot. You complimented me on my work. We had an instant connection. And then you ignored me after that, no matter how many times I called."
Okay, it's official, the guy's a nutcase!
"Why'd you kill Miki?" I ask into the stillness of the air that seems to have enveloped this tiny corner of the world.
"Why?" Takashi repeats my question. "Because I want to take everything away from you. I know what she meant to you. I've been watching you for years. You and her, and you," he nods towards Shibata.
Not only he's a nut case, he's also an example of a sad sad excuse of a psycho human being.
Miki's death was a senseless, meaningless act in order to teach me a "lesson." Takashi used her love for me to trick her into going along with him.
This is why I hate psychos! I'm repeating myself now, but bashing Takashi is so much fun! Borrowing a sentence from Aya, I want to shoot his face off badly after hearing this twisted reasoning!
The word "anger" shouldn't be used.
Nor rage. Nor fury.
There is no word in any language that can describe the chaos that has overtaken my mind. Only action.
I love how you kinda describe the depth of Aya's feelings here without actually describing it using words. I think this is one of the powerful scenes in this chapter.
"Die," I speak in a low, unstable, dark tone.
My mind's eye can actually see this happening and see Aya's grim murderous face when she said it.
"She was everything to me!" I scream at the top of my lungs. "Everything!"
I wailed right when I read this. Nuf said.....The 'everything' part...it's just that.... I can relate to it very very closely....
Then I let out another scream so chilling that I feel sick hearing it. I clutch at my head as though someone's trying to rip it off. My nails claw into my scalp and I scream until my breath runs out.
"You'll rot in hell!"
And this part add more wailing because.......it's so believable and right out of Jdrama script book! :lol:
And so this conclude my thoughts, and complaints and everything else in between about this long series of fic. Thank you for writing and sharing a wonderfully sad monogatari. (and turned me into such a mushy crybaby!) :kneelbow: